


The Midnight

by PrittlePrince



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 90s AU, 90s Vibes, 90s music, Angst, Arcades, Biker Jungwoo, Coming of Age, M/M, Mark Lee smoking when he shouldn't be, Nevada, Sehun as a big brother, Side KunTen, Soft Mark, emotional distress, neon lights, side JohnYong, they're in their 20s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-07-11 17:38:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19931914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrittlePrince/pseuds/PrittlePrince
Summary: Jungwoo aches to leave his stifling life in Nevada state, to escape to hell of his family and his black sheep status in his community. Mark is an arcade boy, who spends the hot months skating and biking and the rest day-dreaming, trying to figure out where he wants life to take him. As their lives become intertwined, Jungwoo comes to realize there might be more to life than he thought, and Mark sees a future that involves more than just himself. After years of keeping himself closed off, will Jungwoo take a chance to let himself be seen?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!
> 
> Thanks for reading! This is a first time Markwoo for me, and straight up my first time writing Mark at all (bless him).
> 
> This will be explicit in later chapters~
> 
> Also, this is mostly un-beta's and I'm Canadian so apologies for any American inaccuracies!
> 
> I hope if you like this, you'll encourage me to keep going!
> 
> I know we all have 90s vibes so please send me your head-canons via Twitter, Curious Cat, here, etc... and I might include them in the story! <3
> 
> Twitter: @prittleceebs  
> CC: curiouscat.me/prittleceebs

Hot sand and gravel stretch out as far as the eye can see, broken up only by jagged rock faces and stones weathered smooth by the exfoliating wind. The heat is dry, nearly suffocating, but Jungwoo breathes through his nose under the motorcycle helmet and tries to ignore the sweat gathering behind his ears.

The road opens up underneath him, slate grey with crisp yellow lines dividing the lanes of the highway and as he rides on green begins to enter his vision; thriving desert plants and bushes blooming as if creating a green moat around Carson City. His bike rumbles hot like a furnace between his legs, and where his black jeans touch his skin it’s like a brand. He’s enjoyed his brief reprieve from the hustle and bustle of it all but longs for the moment he can step under the spray of an ice-cold shower.

His bike slows as he begins to pass shorter buildings and businesses on the edge of the city, and 5 minutes from his home he pulls into a dusty strip mall. There’s white stucco cracking and peeling off the sides, but the familiarity of his favourite convenience store makes it easy for Jungwoo to ignore as he sets his helmet on the handle of his Triumph and steps inside.

A bell jingles when he enters, but instead of the refreshing blast of cold air he’s usually greeted with, a wave of muggy, damp heat washes over him. He makes a face, and finding no one at the front counter, he heads to the cooler to pick up his usual; a six pack of his favourite brut from a local brewery, and a tall bottle of aloe water.

He cracks the bottle and takes several longs gulps as he approaches the counter. He chews on small pieces of aloe as he sets his things down, and still finding himself alone, calls out.

“Do? You in?” He turns the small fan by the cash in his direction and lets it ruffle his hair as he listens to muffled curses from the back room followed by the sound of a metal ring before something crashes to the floor. Standing up straight, Jungwoo peers down the far aisle to where the door to the back room is only half open.

“Okay?” He calls as he steps down the aisle and nudges the door open with his boot. The sight is a sorry one. Doyoung is sat on the linoleum, sweaty hair plastered to his forehead and his shirt sleeves rolled as high up as they’ll go. What appears to be an ancient AC window unit is sat between his outstretched legs and there are various rusted tools by his feet, seemingly abandoned. There’s a sheen of sweat over his whole body, and Jungwoo notes it’s even more humid back here.

“Oh buddy…” Jungwoo leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms. Doyoung looks up at him and raises his arms in the air, looking fed up.

“Woo, I’m at a loss, man.” He gestures to the machinery in front of him. “I have to wait for the AC company to send whoever to fix the heavy duty unit sometime next week, but we can’t live like this for god’s sake. Dad said there was a unit out back and I found it but it doesn’t _fucking_ work.”

“I wondered…” Jungwoo hums, lowering to sit on his haunches as he surveys the hideous square that holds to secret to Do’s comfort.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It won’t put out cold air. It’s just more of… this.” Doyoung gestures around them dramatically and Jungwoo chuckles.

“I could try. Only so much that could be wrong with it.” He stands and Doyoung _whines_ at him, making grabby hands. “Oh god, Woo, please help me.” Jungwoo laughs and helps him up, and together they carry the air conditioner to the front of the store where it’s moderately cooler.

“Can’t promise anything…” Jungwoo murmurs as he peels off his jacket and throws it over the counter. His loose white T-shirt is already damp from the humidity inside the store, and it sticks to his chest. He pushes his sleeves up over his shoulders and settles in at the stool behind the counter. 

“I should maybe put this back in the fridge for you, you know,” Doyoung mourns, gesturing to the beer sweating on the counter. Jungwoo nods absently before he slips a pair of glasses out of his coat pocket and sets them on the edge of his nose, starting to peer at the inner workings of the AC unit.

“Thanks, Do.” Jungwoo unscrews the front of the AC and removes the grill, gazing inside.

“You got a sink in the back, yeah?” 

“Yeah, in the bathroom. Why?” Jungwoo pulls out the old filter and passes it gingerly to Doyoung between two fingers.

“Wash this as best you can, and be gentle with it, it’s old as hell and I assume you don’t have a replacement.” 

Doyoung nods, and takes out his phone, quickly snapping a picture of the model number so he can pick up a new filter later. 

“Do you have a vacuum? Like a small one… the type you’d use to clean out a car?” Jungwoo asks before Doyoung can step away.

“Yeah, gimme a minute and I’ll bring you something.”

Doyoung takes the filter to the back room and Jungwoo settles back in the stool, crossing his legs and putting his feet up on the empty shelf below the counter. He turns the tiny, ineffective fan back his way and unscrews the aloe water, chugging back half the bottle before he hears the bell of the front door.

The stranger makes the same face as he enters that Jungwoo did not fifteen minutes earlier. He’s got a backwards cap on, and a striped tank top tucked into loose black basketball shorts. Jungwoo can see the sweat gathering on his nape the moment the door swings closed behind him.

“AC out?” He asks as he approaches the counter, and Jungwoo sits up a little straighter, glancing down the aisle to the back room.

“Yeah, we’re trying to come up with an alternate solution in the meantime.” He plucks his glasses from his face and tucks them away.

The stranger nods, and Jungwoo can see that his skin prickles uncomfortably in the heat. He turns the small fan to face the other man, who seems grateful as he leans into the breeze.

“Can I get a pack of Marlboro Black, please. Twenty pack.” 

Jungwoo glances to the back again but Doyoung is nowhere to be seen. He can’t see the stranger's eyes behind his sunglasses, and he peers at him a moment before the shorter man sighs and fiddles with his wallet, throwing his ID on the counter. He takes off his sunglasses and pulls off his hat to push his sweaty hair back before securing the hat back on tight, facing forward.

“Mmm.” Is all Jungwoo offers, picking up the ID and studying it carefully. Mark Lee, 22 years old. He sets the ID back on the counter and stands to peruse the shelves of cigarettes behind him, grabbing a single pack of Marlboro black.

“Anything else?” Mark shakes his head but then stares at Jungwoo’s bottle of aloe water, seeming to reconsider.

“Is that stuff any good?”

Jungwoo turns the bottle on the counter, and the heat has made the bottle sweaty with condensation.

“Helps beat the heat.” He offers, before glancing up at Mark.

“Try it before you buy it?” He continues, on a whim.

Mark gives him a look, and seems to consider it. 

“Naw,” he eventually says, raising a hand, seemingly content not to share a drink with a complete stranger.

“Fair. $5.75 please.” 

Mark eyes him as Jungwoo takes the cash and seems to struggle with opening the till.

“Do you work here?” Mark eventually asks, and Jungwoo feels his cheeks heat a little. He can’t blame it on the temperature of the store. He chuckles and slides Mark’s change across the counter.

“You caught me. Doyoung’s out back try to salvage the filter for this damn thing.” Jungwoo slaps his hand on the top of the AC unit.

Mark purses his lips, shoving his change back into his pocket.

“Yo, should you have really asked me for my ID then?”

Jungwoo laughs at the look on Mark’s face and slips back onto the stool, turning the fan back his way and pulling his water closer on the counter.

“Perhaps not. But in that case, I’m not sure if you can take those.” He nods to the small pack of cigarettes on the counter as he tips the bottle back and proceeds to finish the rest. It’s far more tepid at this point, and Jungwoo’s a little glad the other man turned down his offer to try some.

He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back of his forehead, and Mark’s eyes follow the movement. He doesn’t say anything else, and Mark stands a little awkwardly, as though trying to sort something out.

“So you’re Do’s friend? I don’t know he’s ever mentioned you before?” 

Jungwoo wonders if Mark is getting a little suspicious of him.

“How would you know, hmm? You haven’t asked my name. Or do you suppose someone of my _character_ would be quite memorable, Mark?” He lobs his empty bottle across the counter and it lands neatly in a small blue recycling box. When he turns to Mark again he can tell he’s quite literally put the man on his back foot.

He hadn’t intended to be unkind, or flirtatious, but by the flush rising to Mark’s face, he can tell it’s been taken one of two ways. Mark seems to chew on this for a moment before a hesitant smile reaches his face.

“Yeah. I suppose.” He doesn’t ask for Jungwoo’s name, but like most things, this rolls right off Jungwoo’s back.

“Is that your bike out front?”

Jungwoo makes to respond but Doyoung re-appears, holding a very small handheld vacuum and a ragged, but clean-looking filter.

“Oh, hey Mark. Sorry about the heat. Jungwoo was just helping me figure out what was wrong with this thing.” Marks eyes move to Jungwoo but Jungwoo only sits up, pulling the AC closer on the counter. The vacuum is powered by a rechargeable battery and so it jumps to life immediately when he switches it on. 

He carefully vacuums the coils inside while Mark and Doyoung step aside to likely catch up and complain about the heat. Jungwoo eyes them in his peripheral, studies Mark’s profile. He doesn't know Do well, mostly from highschool in his teenage years, and now nearly daily as Do stocks his favourite aloe water and he grabs a bottle after almost every drive. Mark, he doesnt know. But Do seems to like him well enough.

When he’s finished, he shuts off the vacuum and makes grabby hands for the filter which Doyoung gratefully hands over, clearly unhappy holding something so gross for so long. Jungwoo re-attaches everything and screws the grill back onto the front before standing to survey his handiwork.

“Shall we try it?” He asks, and puts up his hands when Doyoung looks elated. “I’m not sure if it’ll work, Do. We basically just cleaned it.”

“I don’t care, I just appreciate you sticking around to try and help anyway. Plug it in?”

Jungwoo does, and as the old machine rattles to life, only tepid air comes out. Doyoung’s face falls, and Jungwoo feels a little heartbroken he couldn’t fix this for his friend, but then the AC produces a strange rattling sound and suddenly the air starts to come out a little chilly. 

Mark leans forward to put his face right into the breeze and gives a grateful sigh.

“Dude… you fixed it! This is the only relief I’ve had since I left my apartment this morning.”

Jungwoo offers only a soft smile as Doyoung bounds behind the counter and throws his arms around Jungwoo’s neck. He whines and squeezes, and Jungwoo only chuckles and rolls his eyes, tolerating it.

“Anyway, I gotta go, Do. Gotta go feed the little hellion.” He steps away from Do’s embrace and goes to collect his beer from the fridge before bringing it back up to the counter.

“Oh god no,” Doyoung says sternly as Jungwoo fishes for his wallet in his back pocket. “It’s on me, seriously. You saved my life.”

Jungwoo smiles, grateful.

“Thanks Do. Don’t forget to fit that in a window somewhere so it can start getting this heat out of here.”

Do gives him a salute, face still split by a happy grin, and Jungwoo grabs his jacket and his beer and heads out, Mark close on his heels.

As he settles the six-pack in his saddlebag, he observes Mark hovering, watching him from under the awning.

“So it is your bike. It’s beautiful.”

Jungwoo snaps his saddlebag closed and ties his jacket around his waist before throwing his leg over so he can straddle the bike. 

“Thanks.” Jungwoo responds simply, slipping his helmet on.

Mark lights up a cigarette and leans against a concrete pillar, watching him. There’s something on his face, some emotion Jungwoo can’t place. 

“Not going to offer me a ride home, _Jungwoo_?” Jungwoo’s eyes quickly rise to meet Mark’s, and he can tell Mark is making a joke, but it falls a little flat. Jungwoo raises the visor on his helmet and a subtle relief washes over Mark’s face when he sees Jungwoo’s soft smile.

Jungwoo’s bike roars to life beneath him before settling to a gentle purr. He nudges out his kickstand before giving Mark a final look.

“Maybe next time.” He offers, and Mark stares at him a bit, nodding as Jungwoo walks his bike back before pulling his feet up and letting his bike take him back out onto the road.

Mark takes a heavy drag and holds it as he watches Jungwoo disappear down the road. When he exhales, the smoke is nearly clear.


	2. Chapter 2

The house, situated in a residential area near his old high school, smells a bit like old carpet, Mark thinks. His mother’s been talking about replacing it all with hardwood. And while he’d originally scoffed at such an expensive venture, he kind of gets it now. Despite the air conditioning, the heat has brought out the worst in the old house. It might be dry outside but indoors it’s cool and slightly damp.

He kicks his shoes off, rearranging the brown paper grocery bags in his arms before stepping into the living room. His brother is on his stomach on the floor, playing Super Smash Bros. and ignoring his existence entirely.

“When’re you going to move out of the house, Jisung?”

His brother doesn’t look at him, eyes glued to the screen. 

“When’re you going to move out of my immediate vicinity?” Jisung playfully chirps back.

Mark purses his lips and heads into the kitchen, putting things away as his mom steps in, affixing snap-on earrings onto her ears. They glitter red as the lowering sun hits them and Mark feels a familial warmth sweep through him as he greets his smiling mother.

“Hi, hunny! Oh, aren't you a sweetie, helping with the groceries!” She pulls him into a hug despite the obvious rush she’s in, and leaves a big lipstick kiss on his cheek.

He blushes and tries to pull away, but he’s smiling when she stands upright. “Least I could do,” he coughs, opening the fridge to steal a Fresca.

“You don’t need to do it, but that’d never stop you, would it?” 

He doesn’t respond to her, busying himself with the tab on his soda, which is well enough as she’s slipping into a pair of heels and pulling her purse over her shoulder. “Sorry I have to leave just as you’re dropping by, I’ve for a work function tonight.” She looks genuinely apologetic, but Mark was really only swinging by and tells her as much.

“All the same, it’s great to see you.” He sees her hold back from squeezing his cheek, and he grins, following her back to the door. 

“Sunggie, remember to feed yourself!” She calls before leaving. Mark can see the way Jisung bristles at that, but it’s just his age.

“Later, short stuff.”

That does get a rise out of his brother, but Mark is already hopping down the steps and onto his bike as his mom pulls out of the driveway.

The wind licks at his hair as he sails down the street on a slight decline. For once without his hat, he can feel the sun warming his hair and he relishes how the breeze keeps sweat from gathering. He sails past houses, letting his bike carry him through the neighbourhood. The sun is starting to set and the streets are orange and blue, shadows forming under bushes and beside houses like inky blots.

He thinks about his mother, whose like a glowing star in the midnight of it all. With her permanent smile, and her glittering red-jewel earrings, and her absolutely maddening, unending ability to overwork herself to the point of exhaustion. Mark hasn’t known his father, had been only a toddler when he’d exited their lives, but he still deeply resents that his mother has been left to raise them herself. Which she had done, so thoughtfully, and lovingly, despite it all.

When he reaches his apartment, Mark is still deep in thought. The white siding is lit up orange, and he sees the muted blinking of a neon light in his roommate's bedroom on the second floor. The apartment smells heavenly when he enters, like fried foods and rice, and when he kicks off his shoes and enters the kitchen, Haechan is poking at something on the stove, wearing only an apron and his boxers.

“Oh my god, dude.” Mark laughs, and Haechan spins around, a pained look on his face. 

“Yo, the oil was burning me! I had to put on an apron!”

“That’s not what I was laughing at, you nerd. Go put on some clothes already.”

Haechan allows himself to be elbowed out of the way, and Mark takes the chopsticks from him, poking at the fried food floating in the oil.

“What is this? Smells amazing!”

“It’s like… popcorn chicken? Those need to come out and it’s done.” He hovers over Mark’s right shoulder before dropping his chin, hands falling to Mark’s waist. “I have burns! Kiss them better?”

Mark reaches back and tickles him, ignoring his question entirely. Haechan is like this, flirtatious. Its part of what makes him such a successful internet personality. Live streams every wednesday, and weekly game reviews and game theories. He has a quickly growing following, and his fans are taken by his playful charms and saucy jokes.

“Go put on a shirt or something, I’ll plate.” Haechan dramatically extricates himself from around Mark’s shoulders and his feet slap on the hardwood as he heads to his room.

Mark busies himself moving the bowl of fried chicken to the table and places it next to an attractive looking plate of fried rice. He’s gathering plates and chopsticks when Haechan enters wearing a much more respectable T-shirt and shorts.

“Are these new? Where did these come from?” Mark holds up a pair of etched stainless steel chopsticks from the cutlery drawer and Haechan‘s face falls.

“Uhm. Kevin, I got those from Kevin.” Mark’s face mirrors his own and he drops the chopsticks unceremoniously back into the drawer. “Thought I got rid of those.”

“Sorry bro,” Mark murmurs, placing a comforting hand on Haechan’s shoulder as he sits down. Kevin had been Haechan’s last boyfriend, and it had really lasted a while before the prick had fucked everything up and cheated. Haechan was still recovering months later, and Mark was both surprised and livid to see how much it had cracked through his friend’s confident exterior and broken him down. 

“He didn’t deserve you, and I’ll still kick his ass the next time I see him.” Mark takes up Haechan’s plate first.

“Good luck, he moved to California.” Mark looks up at this, surprise in his eyes.

“Really? And you know this how?”

Haechan gives him a suffering look and Mark purses his lips.

“I hate how he still has this effect on you. That’s it, I’m going to pick a uni in California so I can stalk him before ruining his life.”

Haechan finally laughs at that, and they both dig into their food.

“Ohhhhh my god,” Mark moans around a mouthful of food. Perfectly crispy chicken over a bed of buttery rice, it's just a carb fest but it completely hits the spot. “This is good!” 

Haechan elbows him, but Mark can see the pride in his eyes.

“Don’t act so surprised. I’m going to make a great husband someday.” Haechan laughs, and the rest of their evening falls into a comfortable silence.

It isn’t until they’re both stretched out on Haechan’s bed, Mark flipping through his phone while Haechan looks for new music on his laptop, that the thought comes to Mark.

“Do you remember a guy we used to go to school with? Jungwoo… something? I don’t know his last name.”

Haechan glances up from his laptop, gaze strangely focused. “Kim.”

“Oh yeah? Do you remember him?”

Haechan scoffs and sets his laptop aside. 

“How could I forget him? There’s so much drama surrounding his family it’s insane.”

Mark perks up at this, brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t believe you don’t remember. His brother killed a girl a year his junior in a hit and run. He was drunk. She was from another high school so maybe you don’t remember her, but anyway he turned himself in like thirty minutes later. Her friends had all been there and saw the whole thing- they were all traumatized.”

Mark’s eyebrows are nearly up to his hairline at this point, but he’s silent, horrified.

“That was like… three, four years ago maybe? He’s still in jail, and they say Jungwoo visits him every weekend. No one really talks to him much, though.”

“Holy shit,” Mark breathes, hand over his chest.

“Yeah, man. Fucked up.” Haechan picks up his laptop again and Mark sits in silence with this terrible news for a moment.

“His parents?” He finally asks.

“Oh yeah, how could I forget? His father was caught sleeping with one of the engineers at the airline he works for. He’s basically one of the top guys within the company, you know? Anyway, that was a whole thing that happened, like, just before Jungwoo’s brother went to jail. After all that, his mom just up and… left, I guess? Seems like she didn’t leave word, and just kind of abandoned them? I don’t know, they probably know a bit more than the rest of us.”

“That’s…”

“All kinds of fucked up, yes.”

Mark glances at the time on his phone but doesn’t really take it in, and has to look again. He sits back against the wall, legs splayed out before him, a little despondent.

“I feel really terrible for Jungwoo.” Mark finally offers, wringing his own fingers as he tries to process this information.

“Don’t.” Haechan’s voice is firm, and Mark glances up at him, a little surprised.

“He’s probably just like his brother, to be honest. The way he speeds around on that motorcycle. And people say he’s pretty surly anyway. Whatever his life is like, he seems to fit comfortably in it. Don’t feel bad for him.”

Mark is shocked, and stands, no longer comfortable with this version of his best friend. 

“Hyuck… how can you be sure? That seems like a terrible attitude to have.”

Haechan scoffs a little, pushing his hair back. His face glows orange under the light of his wall-mounted neon sign. A palm tree, flickering happily in the darkness. Probably reminding Haechan of a far off place, Mark assumes. Thinking about how quickly his roommate recalled his ex moving to California… Mark feels a sickening weight in his stomach to think Haechan might ever try to chase him there.

“Mark. You really are a good guy, you know? You’re trusting, and that’s a good trait to have. But sometimes, if something acts like a dog, barks like a dog, and shits like a dog, it’s just a dog, dude.”

Mark’s face screws up at the offensive analogy and makes to leave.

“Rude, Hyuck.” Mark shoots back as he heads to his own room, disappointment clear in his tone. He hears complaints as he closes his door but ignores them, flopping on his bed. He doesn’t bother mentioning to Haechan he met him, the boy with the troubled family. That he was sweet, and kind of funny. A little bit more confident than his soft expressions might suggest, and a handyman to boot.

While theres something mysterious about him, Mark can hardly imagine calling him _surly_ , or of doing anything to deserve the way Haechan spoke about him. _How did I miss this…?_ he thinks, picking through his memories to try and recall hearing anything about the whole situation, but he comes up empty handed. He pulls out his Walkman from under his pillow and slides the thin headset over his ears, letting Journey carry him far away.

-

It’s still dark when Mark wakes up, but it’s to be expected. Four days of the week he works with the local vet, putting in hours to try and learn, absorb information and make a (moderate) amount of money to try and save for school. Far more than he likes goes to rent, and a bit towards cigarettes and alcohol, but in the past few months he’s managed to put aside a meager savings he’ll eventually apply towards his tuition.

He didn’t leave for school after graduation like so many of his schoolmates, opting instead to learn to live on his own and save money, trying to get valuable job experience. The local vet is an ophthalmology specialist, a friend of his mom’s, and has been very kind to him as he’s worked to learn under her care. Someday she’ll write him a letter of recommendation to a veterinary school of his choice, and in the meantime he takes what undergraduate classes he can online to try and get ahead. While it’s taking longer, he still feels like he’s getting the college experience.

And work experience, he blearily reminds himself as he shuffles to the kitchen to put on coffee before heading to the shower. Thirty minutes later he’s descending the steps from their apartment, travel mug firmly clasped in his hands. He secures it to his bike and kicks off into the near-dark, biking the familiar path to the clinic before the sun’s heat will make the trek unbearable.

His day is a normal one. The vet only ever really lets him do paperwork and apply numbing eye drops to the dog’s eyes, but he loves it all the same. He learns to quiet agitated animals, which he recognizes will be a valuable skill to have in the future. The admin work gives him a valuable perspective on how important the fine details are, especially when it comes to pet insurance coverage, and repeat business.

More valuable, though, is simply watching how the vet does her work. How she speaks to the clients, to the animals, to the staff. He hopes one day he’ll be able to own his own practice, and aspires to be as well-rounded as her.

The afternoon is blazing hot by the time he leaves the clinic, and he wearily climbs aboard his bike, the dry heat already depleting his energy. He takes the longer route home, although he’s sure he doesn’t do it consciously. His ears are tuned for the telltale sound of a motorcycle, something he thinks about constantly now without any intention of doing so.

His tires slide on the gravel of the strip mall parking lot as he leans his bike against the wall outside of Do’s father’s convenience store. It’s the height of the afternoon heat, he tells himself, and maybe he needs some refreshments. He tries not to think about the last time he was here, only yesterday, and white short sleeves rolled up to expose toned biceps coloured by the sun. He halts his train of thought before it can get too far, lips pursed.

The AC is in full swing, and he gives a grateful sigh as he enters, returning Doyoung’s friendly wave before heading to the coolers. Several colourful options greet him and he barely thinks before choosing a tall, squared-off green bottle.

“This is new for you, isn’t it?” Do says as he approaches the counter. He turns and grabs a pack of cigarettes, sliding them across the counter to join the bottle.

“Oh? Yeah. I guess. Your friend the other day said it’s pretty refreshing, and it’s miserable out there right now to be honest.” He passes over cash, but hesitates before leaving. “What’s his name again?” He asks slyly, even though he knows.

“Jungwoo. God damn lifesaver.”

Mark chuckles and Do busies himself with unpacking packages of POGs and arranging them near the till.

“I don’t really know him that well. Did he go to school with you?”

Doyoung hums, stripping the tape from the box and flattening it. “Yeah, and he was just as good then to be honest. He tutored me through calculus so I had the marks to apply for my undergraduate studies. Even with everything he was going through…” Doyoung clams up a bit, clearing his throat.

Mark considers discussing it. He doesn’t appreciate that the only perspective he’s gotten was Haechan’s, which was obviously a little narrow-minded. “I only heard about all of that recently. Not that it’s my business, of course…” Mark drops his eyes and Doyoung offers a thoughtful hum. Knows that he’s fishing, but doesn’t seem too terribly bothered.

“No, no. It’s fine. He’s come out rough on the other side of it, but he’s a good guy.”

“Seems like. I feel like I had no idea about any of it, but I heard a pretty colourful opinion from my roommate…” 

Doyoung frowns at that, eyes on the counter as he fiddles with the hem of his shirt. He’s uncomfortable, and Mark feels responsible.

“Sorry, like I said. It’s not my business. I just thought that he seemed like a pretty cool guy… you know, when I met him.”

“Yeah. He doesn’t deserve the rumours that are spread about him.”

Mark collects his things from the counter, recognizing this as his moment to depart.

“I don’t know him all that well, but I think you’re probably right.” 

Mark, who takes a rare moment to be entirely self-aware, recognizes he’s spent a whole day over-analyzing a very brief interaction. Despite the epiphany, he still comes to the same conclusion: there’s something about Jungwoo that pulls at his senses, that’s mysterious, enticing, that makes him want to learn more.

Doyoung offers him a genuine smile. “I’m glad you think so.”

Their near-comfortable exchange is broken by the telltale rumbling of a motorcycle pulling into the parking lot and Mark feels his heart jump into his throat.

“Oh my god.” He looks at Doyoung, whose chewing on his bottom lip. “I genuinely feel embarrassed,” Mark huffs, and Doyoung cracks a smile at that.

“You’re cute.” Do laughs, and Mark flushes from his head to his toes as the bells announce Jungwoo’s entrance.

“Oh, hey Mark. Do.” Jungwoo offers him the softest smile Mark’s ever seen before he approaches the coolers in three swift strides and Mark stares at his long legs and doesn’t utter a word. Jungwoo approaches the counter and Doyoung gives Mark a _look_ before he starts making idle chat with the object of Mark’s sudden embarrassing obsession.

“Have a good night, Do... Night, Jungwoo.” Marks feels stupid for standing there, and so he makes a hasty retreat. Do gives him a funny smile and waves. Expression considering, Jungwoo gives him a nod, and Mark nearly trips on the doorframe as he backs out. 

The heat immediately crowds him, suffocating, and Mark groans, pressing the cold bottle to his forehead as he leans against a concrete pillar. He lights a cigarette, cursing his default state: awkward. He lets his eyes close for a moment in pained contemplation.

The convenience store door swings open and the bells jarringly cut through Mark’s wallowing. He very nearly jumps out of his skin as Jungwoo steps out, and is only soothed by the brief draft of AC that slips off of Jungwoo’s body like a salve.

“Decided to give it a try? What do you think?” Jungwoo shifts a plastic bag to his other hand and gestures to Mark’s bottle of aloe water. He doesn’t comment on Mark’s startled expression.

“What? Oh.” Mark looks at the bottle in his free hand. “I haven’t tried it yet actually.” He takes a drag from his cigarette and before he knows it a shadow falls over him and Jungwoo is plucking it from his fingers.

“Go on, tell me what you think.”

Mark tries to ignore the way Jungwoo brings the cigarette to his own lips as he cracks the lid on the bottle. He glances over at him as he brings it to his lips, and Jungwoo exhales smoke from his mouth in a distracting “O”.

The liquid hits the back of his throat completely wrong and Mark chokes, doubling over. Bemused, Jungwoo steps close and slaps his back until Mark is gasping for air and Jungwoo stands up straight, chuckling softly.

“That bad?”

Mark laughs as he wipes his mouth. “No, that’s not it. Let me try it for real.”

He takes another careful sip, and ignores Jungwoo’s heavy gaze. The taste is... okay. Less sweet than he expected, but it’s cooling, just like Jungwoo promised.

“I feel light all over.” Mark accounces, smacking his lips, and Jungwoo’s smile is so wide and genuine Mark cant help but match it. Jungwoo hands him his cigarette back and Mark feels shameful at the way he luxuriates in taking a drag, tuning his senses for any change in the texture of the filter, expecting somehow his cigarette will taste different, more of Jungwoo.

_Fuck_ , hes got a crush. Like a real honest to goodness crush.

“Want a ride home?” Jungwoo asks, and it’s so innocent, so playful and out of nowhere, that Mark doesn’t expect it. Jungwoo’s looking in the other direction, but Mark can see the gentle, unbothered smile on his face. The sudden realization that he’s both got a crush and that Jungwoo is inviting him to ride with him, on his _motorcycle_ , is a trip. Mark’s whole body breaks out with nervous goosebumps despite the heat, and he lets the moment drag on, committing it to memory.

“Maybe next time,” He finally responds, stubbing out his cigarette and taking another cooling gulp of water. Jungwoo looks only mildly surprised when he meets Mark’s gaze.

“I’ve got my bike today.” As it’s a good enough reason to turn down the offer. Mark hopes whatever this is, he can stretch it out and appreciate it. He really likes Jungwoo. Like, really likes him, he thinks. Likes the way Jungwoo looks at him. Likes the strange way he seems unbothered by everything, especially after all Mark has learned about his past. He’s not cocky, but he’s also not really shy, or scared. He’s just… him.

Soft hair falling into his eyes, Jungwoo nods at him with an easy grin, and Mark returns it in kind, a little helplessly.

“But…” Mark starts, as Jungwoo locks away his purchase and straddles his bike. 

“I hope you’ll ask again.”

Awkwardness shoots through Mark’s chest like a physical pain, and he hides his nervous grin by pulling his ball-cap further over his face. There’s nothing like saying it out loud, he thinks. Just baring it all for everyone to see. It’s risky, but has rarely failed him.

Helmet gripped in both hands, Jungwoo considers him. While his expression is still soft, long-gone is the easy smile. He looks a little grim, and Mark’s heart beats wildly in his chest as regret starts to suffocate him.

Jungwoo’s voice is softly surprised when he speaks, as though by his own declaration. 

“Yeah. I will.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your continued support on this fic! I despite posting unfinished works, so I tried to be brave and post this one chapter by chapter and the encouragement I've received has been so overwhelming! Thanks to all who sent me suggestions and positivity! Here's chapter three! It wont be long before things get a little spicy, so for those of you waiting with bated breath - thanks for your patience! xoxo Ceebs

Dappled sunlight spills across the scratched linoleum floor and Jungwoo crosses his feet at the ankles, swinging one foot in and out of a single sunbeam. The light dances across a buckle on his boot and he smiles as he watches a toddler in his mother’s arms excitedly giggle from a nearby table. He twitches his foot and the child laughs and climbs on his mother’s shoulder, making grabby hands at the sparkle Jungwoo’s boot makes on the floor. 

He’s surrounded by many tables, small ones that share only two simple chairs. The room is mostly empty, but Jungwoo can’t help but feel like there’s too many people around, the din of their conversations rising to close in on him. He sinks into the chair a little knowing he’ll soon feel differently, just like he always does.

When he first started visiting his brother it always felt too public, like they had so much to talk about but so little privacy. Jungwoo remembers having to learn to deliberately speak more clearly, more confidently, so he no longer felt like he had to raise his voice to be heard over those of the other visitors. Years later it’s shaped who he’s become, and his brother often remarks on this. You’re less silly than you used to be, he’d say, but when Jungwoo would crack a smile, fondness would reach his brother’s eyes and he’d say ah, there it is.

So Jungwoo calms himself, sitting patiently as he tries not to listen to the other’s private conversations, and waits. A dull buzz sounds through the air, and his brother is escorted through a side door. Jungwoo’s heart still leaps into his chest, every time.

“Sehun!” He doesn’t stand up out of excitement like he used to, mostly because he doesn’t care for the way the guards eye him warily whenever he does. But when Sehun is led to their table and he sits down they both lean forward to touch their foreheads briefly. He grips Sehun at the back of his neck, giving a soft squeeze before releasing him. 

They’ve never been huggers, as a family. But Jungwoo cherishes these moments when they briefly embrace, and it centres him more than a hug ever could. He associates hugging his family with painful memories, like when they’d first gotten the call from the police, or months later in a courtroom, when his brother had been led away.

He pulls away quickly as Sehun settles into his chair, smile content and almost dreamy. He’s not full of energy as he once was, his smile now weighted down by his daily struggles, but he still looks so fond whenever Jungwoo sees him that he sometimes tricks himself into believing his brother might one day be okay. 

“Good week?” Jungwoo asks, leaning his chin in his hand. He always wants to know, asking it each time with the same enthusiasm.

“I’m close to finishing my credits for this year, closer than they expected, they said. Truth is, it’s too hot for rec time so I spend my days in the library.” Sehun’s eyes crinkle as he laughs, and Jungwoo mirrors him, captivated.

“So proud of you, bro. I knew this would be a piece of cake for you.” And Jungwoo _is_ proud, grateful his brother puts so much time into his studies so he can get his degree and be prepared to re-enter his normal life when his jail time is up.

“You’ll nab such a good job when you get out. And we can look anywhere, too! I don’t need to go to Stanford, you know? There are good programs all over the country.” Jungwoo’s grin is blinding, even when Sehun’s face falls slightly.

“You _will_ be going to Stanford, Woo. You’re brilliant.” His words are kind, but his tone is decidedly tense. Jungwoo looks at the tabletop and waves him off.

“Either way, we’ll make it work. It’ll be easy, you’ll see.” His tone, ever optimistic, doesn’t falter as he makes his statement.

“Woo…” Sehun looks tired. Tired of jail, maybe. Tired of rehashing this same conversation with his brother. Jungwoo doesn’t know. He feels a little guilty, but he won’t let this go. He won’t let his brother for a second accept that he has to go it alone when he finally gets out. Unlike the rest of their family, Jungwoo will be right there to be by his side.

“I ask you every time, but please keep thinking about it. It’ll be easy, Sehun. We can make it work.”

Sehun’s smile is sad.

“It’s not about it being easy, Jungwoo. It always is with you. You always put everyone at ease. That’s not what I worry about.”

Sehun aches to grip his brother's hands. To make him listen and pay attention, but Jungwoo won’t meet his gaze and scratches at the table top idly, instead.

“You should already be in California. I’m not going anywhere. You can come back and visit whenever you’re able, and we can video chat. They let us do that now.”

Jungwoo lets him talk, chest tight. He nods when he’s supposed to, giving affirmative hums when a pause might require it, but he’s not listening. Refuses to take it in.

“Sure, but you know I’m busy here. When the time is right I’ll be able to start classes with a leg up. It’ll help me get through school faster. Being here doesn’t hurt me. And we can leave together when the time is right. It just _fits_ , Sehun.” He tries not to let the desperation he feels eke into his voice. He laughs, fitting his chin into his open palms.

“Anyway,” Sehun watches him carefully from the other side of the table. And Jungwoo can feel the weight of his stare, begging him to look. “We have time to figure it out.”

Sehun doesn’t say anything, and Jungwoo tries to let the palpable sense of disappointment roll off his back. He forges ahead to put this behind them, so he can enjoy the last five minutes they have together.

“You told me last week you got a new cell mate, what’s he like?” And Sehun appears to relax too, seemingly content to let the conversation slide for now. Jungwoo knows they’ll keep having this conversation, and hopes both of them will just be patient enough to wait for Sehun’s release when their lives can start again.

—

The weekend drags on hot and hazy, like most weekends this time of year. Despite how the heat saps his energy Jungwoo doesn’t let his visit with his brother dull his mood. Sehun will come around eventually, he’s sure.

His weekend is shaping up to be surprisingly more rewarding than most when Jungwoo receives a text as he’s settling onto his bike in the visitor parking lot.

_Look outside your window._

Jungwoo considers the text, scratching the back of his neck before responding.

_Went to see sehunnie. Why, you got a surprise for me?_

He sees a text bubble pop up, then disappear. Finally, a picture comes through with an audible ding.

Johnny, sun kissing his skin, wearing one of the biggest grins Jungwoo’s ever seen, has taken a selfie in front of his apartment. He’s holding up a crumpled paper bag Jungwoo recognizes as being from their favourite taco joint. His heart swells.

_You’re home! Your home!_

_You better get here fast or I’ll eat your tacos!_

Jungwoo straddles his bike before hastily typing out a reply.

_Let yourself in, you know where the key is! I’ll be there in 30._

_Drive safe, snoopy._

He’s so filled with lightness that his normally thoughtful ride home passes in a flash, and before Jungwoo knows it he’s hopping the steps to his apartment and pushing through the door, rushing into Johnny’s arms.

Johnny, who was in the middle of filling a glass of water from Jungwoo’s brita, tries to squeeze him back with his elbows, chuckling.

“God, this place is still immaculate, Woo. Why do you insist on making the rest of us look like lazy slobs?”

“God I missed you,” Jungwoo breathes in lieu of a response. 

“Missed you too, little Woo.” Johnny mumbles against his neck. Jungwoo extricates himself and stands back, taking Johnny in. In ripped blue jeans and a light grey tanktop Johnny at first appears much the same as the last time he stood before Jungwoo, but there are subtle differences. Johnny’s been working to complete his undergraduate in Canada, and he’s recounted many times, to Jungwoo’s dismay, _just_ how much he’s taken an interest in hockey. His shoulders are broad and defined, and his thighs are impossibly more developed.

“Jesus, Canada turned you into a hunk, huh?” Jungwoo teases, finally allowing himself to be calm and appreciate the moment as he swipes the glass from Johnny’s hand. Johnny protests but Jungwoo finishes the whole glass, smacking his lips.

“It’s stupid hot today.” He states and Johnny nods solemnly.

“This whole state is stupid hot. I’m not built for this anymore, you know? I’m a snow baby now.” They both laugh and after grabbing some snacks and a couple beers (Jungwoo takes the brita from Johnny’s hand with a shake of his head) they fall into the couch, letting the AC from the window unit wash over them.

“I can’t believe you’re here. You didn’t tell me you were coming!”

Johnny takes both of their bottles and pops off the caps with his lighter, a skill Jungwoo has always admired.

“It was a bit of a last minute thing, but I’ll be doing a work placement here for the summer. I wanted to surprise you!”

Jungwoo’s heart feels full. He nearly cries.

“You’re here the full summer? I’m going to _die_.” Johnny leans in to press a kiss to his cheek. Its normal for them, a remnant of a time long ago when they’d pseudo-dated. They don't have that relationship now, but some things still remain, and it only makes their friendship stronger, more unique.

Johnny is a bit like Jungwoo’s life-line. He used to feel guilty to need his friend in that way, but Johnny assured him the feeling was mutual. They relied on one-another and when Johnny had told him he’d be moving away for school, Jungwoo couldn’t help but be heartbroken. Proud of his friend, but sad.

Johnny had been away for 6 semesters, visiting during breaks and sometimes in the summer. And every moment Johnny was gone he proved to Jungwoo how much he valued their friendship. Constant texts, video updates, voicemails, comments on social media, late night phone calls. And it had never wavered in those three years. Johnny showed him that he liked him, and missed him. It was easy to see why they’d so often been pegged as a couple, even now. 

When everything had happened with Sehun, Johnny had been there, a vice-grip around his waist or shoulders whenever things became too much to bear. First Sehun, then his father. And then finally, the lonely emptiness that had opened up when Jungwoo’s mother had run out and he’d been left with nothing. He’d lashed out a lot around that time, only a teenager, barely old enough to graduate high school, and Johnny had seen him through all of it. The hardest thing Jungwoo had faced since that time was Johnny leaving to pursue his studies, but it was a pain they shared, Jungwoo knew.

While he never begrudged Johnny’s need to attend university so far away, he did miss him with every fibre of his being. And now he’d get a full three months with his best friend. He wasn’t going to let Johnny leave his side, he thought playfully.

“Your parents know you’re back already?” 

Johnny nods, crunching on some rice snacks, the only carb he’s been able to find in Jungwoo’s entire apartment. He heavily suspects they’re old and stale.

“Yes, but I’m not seeing them until tonight. It’s just you and me for now, buddy.” Johnny ruffles his hair. “Got plans? Because I just want to sit with you and catch up.”

Jungwoo can’t shake his head quick enough.

“Can we go to the store? I’ve got a craving for cheap cigarettes. The government taxes the _fuck_ out of us up there.”

Jungwoo lights up.

“Lets go to the Kim’s.”

-

It’s a bit more awkward than Jungwoo expected, riding the short few blocks to the store with Johnny on the back of his motorcycle. While they’re nearly the same height, Johnny is far heavier and more broad than he used to be, and it becomes abundantly clear every time they stop at a stop sign and Jungwoo has to carefully balance his bike as they gain speed again. On top of that, Johnny’s thighs stick out oddly, too wide to press neatly against Jungwoo’s hips and so Johnny laughs nearly the whole way, hands light on Jungwoo’s waist as Jungwoo complains.

When they pull in and park, Jungwoo barks out a laugh as he sees Mark step out of the store, clad in flip flops, an oversized striped button-down, and a pair of short cutoff jean shorts. The look he shoots Jungwoo is thinly-veiled panic.

“Do you actually live here?” Jungwoo chuckles when he turns off the engine and Johnny awkwardly climbs off of the back of the bike.

Mark’s eyes are wide behind his glasses as he watches Johnny dismount. It’s clear as Johnny stands that he completely dwarfs Mark, and Mark’s face gets a little tight, gaze distant behind his prescription glasses.

“Yo, Mark. Anyone home?” Jungwoo climbs off his bike and gives Mark a questioning look.

“What?” Mark’s face heats, even in the shade. “Oh, no. I actually have a life.” An uncomfortable smile flits across his face. “But it's too hot to even sit and play videogames.” He holds up a rocket popsicle, and the blue and red ice is already starting to drip down the wooden handle.

"And that's you having a life?” Jungwoo teases, and his tone is light. This is really the most they’ve ever spoken, Jungwoo realizes, and blames it on the good mood Johnny’s inflicted on him.

“Don’t pretend that’s not exactly how you fill every free moment you have, Woo.” Johnny lands a large hand in Jungwoo’s hair, giving it a ruffle before Jungwoo sticks his tongue out at him.

“Don’t make me look uncool in front of Mark, Johnny. He’s my new friend.” Jungwoo’s smile is carefree, his body language open, and Mark openly stares, transfixed, until Johnny steps forward to take his hand and give it a firm shake.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Johnny.” Mark’s face gets impossibly more red, and he doesn’t respond, only nodding. 

“It’s hot, let's go in.” Jungwoo steps forward and Johnny pushes him towards the door with a large palm against the base of his spine.

“Later, Mark!’ Jungwoo sing-songs, stepping inside.

“Better lick that up,” Johnny comments to Mark before following his friend, and for one horrific moment Mark is certain he’s actually drooled on himself before he realizes his popsicle is melting sticky syrup all over his hand. He reaches to catch an incoming drip with his tongue, cursing.

“What the fuck was that, Woo?” Johnny murmurs under his breath as the AC washes over them and they start meandering the aisles. Doyoung’s mom is working the counter today, and Mark gives her a polite wave before narrowing his gaze at Johnny over his shoulder.

“What are you talking about?” He picks up a basket and idly parses through some chip flavours before selecting a can of pringles.

“Who is that guy? He was basically drooling just looking at you!” Johnny laughs, throwing an arm around his friend’s shoulder. Jungwoo tuts, ignoring Johnny’s eyes.

“Oh come on. You’re telling me he saw big, handsome Johnny Suh, back fresh after three years abroad with his ripped jeans and pushed back hair and you think he was drooling over _me_?” He pinches Johnny’s ribs, and Johnny steps back, whining.

“That kid has the hots for you. You’re gonna lie right to my face and tell me you don’t know?” Johnny teases, pulling the basket from Jungwoo’s arm and starting to throw in all sorts of sugary snacks, much to Jungwoo’s dismay. Jungwoo only rolls his eyes and doesn’t answer.

“He’s cute, too. Don’t think I’ve ever seen such a bro wear such short shorts.” He continues, voice oddly considering. Jungwoo ignores him, leaving him alone in the aisle as he goes to peruse the selection of six-packs in the cooler.

“Is he single?” Johnny suddenly questions as he peers at Jungwoo around a mountain of slim-Jim’s, voice serious. The speed with which Jungwoo whips his head in Johnny’s direction has a large grin spreading across his face and Jungwoo’s neck heats as Johnny advances on him, poking him in the chest.

“Gotcha.” Johnny teases again, opening the cooler door so Jungwoo can further ignore him and focus on selecting a few good summer beverages.

“Ask him out.” Johnny carries on, indifferent to Jungwoo’s embarrassment.

“Idiot.” Jungwoo finally responds, carefully arranging a couple cases in his arms.

“Perhaps, but I won’t be the one looking like an idiot if you somehow get to the end of this summer without asking Mark out.”

Johnny seems to drop it after that, and Jungwoo acquiesces when Johnny helps him carry everything to the counter and insists on paying. When they step outside Mark is gone, but Jungwoo notes a small puddle of sticky popsicle syrup on the pavement as they pack up and leave. Johnny lets him think quietly on the way home, and does most of the talking when they’re back settled in front of Jungwoo’s AC. They get a few beers in, and Jungwoo introduces Johnny to Cecil, a cat he rescued several months back.

Jungwoo enjoys their time spent catching up, and for the remainder of the afternoon he nearly forgets the image of Mark’s creamy thighs extending down from the hem of his too-long shirt, until Johnny is leaning in to hug him good-bye and he levels Jungwoo with a teasing smirk.

“Party at mine on Friday. Invite Mark?” 

Jungwoo colours, and Johnny gives him a little wave before stepping out. Johnny is his strength, but also his kryptonite, and always knows exactly what he’s thinking.

“Idiot.” He flops onto the floor and Cecil climbs onto his chest, settling in before starting to knead at Jungwoo’s tummy. Jungwoo chuckles, scratching the cat’s chin.

“Fucking idiot.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter finally gets a little spicy, so thank you for you patience! <3

Mark’s instagram is littered with a variety of content: peaceful sunsets setting behind far-off mountains, grainy photos of iced coffees dripping condensation all over a polished wood table, and POV photos of long, creamy legs stretched out over a bunched-up pink comforter with a PlayStation controller balanced in his lap. Jungwoo’s mouth goes dry.

He’s hunted down Mark’s profile through Doyoung, and his intentions are good: to send Mark a quick invite to Johnny’s party. Instead he finds himself perusing every photo, careful to not ‘accidentally’ like a pic from 2016. He gives in a little, eyeing any photos that show Mark, happy and carefree selfies or group photos taken at the arcade closer to the centre of the city. Mark isn’t hugely active on the platform- posting at most three or four photos a month.

He scrolls back up to the top, and double taps on a photo of Mark, leaned against a bike rack outside of a drag club at night. His face is downturned, smoke coiling out of his mouth, and the light from the neon signs behind him paint his hair pink and green.

He hits “Follow” and then taps to send a message.

_Johnny’s having a party since he’s back for the summer. I know you don’t know him that well, but will you come?_

He leans back in his computer chair, re-reading his message as his thumb hovers over the keyboard.

_Would be great to see y-_

He deletes the text, considering.

_Would love to spend more time-_

He deletes it again, mouth in a thin line.

_For me? ;)_

He hits send, and fights a full body shudder. It’s silly, but he doesn’t care to put himself out there like this with anyone but Johnny. Maybe Doyoung if he’s feeling a bit libatious.

He pushes his phone aside and unlocks his computer screen. Python opens before him as a large dark screen, filled with code in white and yellow text. His study guide is open on his second monitor, and he goes back to finalizing his assignment, eager to get ahead on this week’s homework. He’s completing a couple courses this summer to get ahead on his undergraduate so he doesn't have to start in first year when Sehun is released and they can move. Whatever it takes so they can hit the ground running when the time is right. Jungwoo knows when his brother is _supposed_ to be released, but sometimes magical things happen, and he wants to be ready.

His phone buzzes and he feels a pang of embarrassment for how quickly he reaches for it.

_Well if its for you…_

Jungwoo swallows, uncertain.

_;D send me the address. I’ll be there._

There’s a tender place that flutters uncomfortably in Jungwoo’s chest at that. He hastily types the address and a time and sets his phone aside. The code on his monitor blurs to a hazy white as he slumps into his chair and allows his mind to wander.

_Its a date,_ he thinks, a little cheekily.

-

Mark arrives late, mostly because he thinks its the right thing to do. And partly because he’d stressed so long over what to wear. He’ll likely know virtually nobody, so he hopes giving them an hour or so to liquor up will make his arrival a little more smooth. When he steps inside, it isn’t what he expected. It’s not a crazy rager, with people doing keg stands and packed into the living room doing blow. Instead people hover in groups throughout the house. There’s six or so people flicking through youtube videos in the living room, several twenty-somethings in the backyard playing beer pong, and a small, thankfully familiar group in the kitchen, excitedly chatting over the kitchen island.

“Maaaark!” Mark finds himself immediately wrapped into a tight embrace as he steps into the kitchen. Doyoung’s whine stretches long as he slumps over Mark’s shoulder.

“You took so long to get here!” 

Mark laughs, gripping Doyoung by the elbows and turning to face him.

“Do, you are _blasted_ , buddy.” 

Doyoung smiles wide, eyes nearly closed.

“Yeah but it’ll get better,” he mumbles, playing with Mark’s hair. Mark feels a helpless grin rise to his face, it’s just too ridiculous. 

“Anyway, you look cute. Is that why it took you so long?” Doyoung’s hand honest-to-goodness lands on his waist, over his long, striped button-up. And Mark knows it’s innocent, but that doesn’t stop the surprised laugh that falls from his lips. Johnny steps around the island and places a hand on the small of Doyoung’s back, guiding him to the sink.

“Maybe just a bit of water,” Johnny urges, barely able to contain his laughter.

“We were passing around a spliff, and he took it so we all just assumed he knew how to handle it.” Jungwoo leans against the counter, facing Mark, and pushes his hair off his forehead with a chuckle. Mark aches for him, taking a mental snapshot of the gorgeous line of his body stretched against the counter. “Well, a couple beers followed by that took the wind right out of his sails.” And Mark laughs along with him. It’s easy when he looks at Jungwoo’s carefree laugh, and the relaxed posture of his body. He’s dressed simply, a plain white T-shirt and black jeans but the jeans _hug_ , Mark quickly realizes, and averts his gaze.

“I don’t think he gets out too much,” Mark agrees, tone lighthearted. “He just works so damn hard. He’s not as seasoned as we are.” Mark takes a couple steps closer, placing his beer on the counter.

“I work hard!” Jungwoo protests, and an honest-to-goodness _pout_ graces his features. He’s just so beautiful, so interesting, and so suddenly open and expressive that Mark doesn’t know what to do with himself. He can’t tell if Jungwoo is flirting with him or just a little drunk.

Mark hands him a beer.

“And now you must work harder.” He says, solemn. Jungwoo laughs and raises his bottle.

“For Doyoung.”

“For Doyoung!” They clink their bottles and laugh. Johnny looks over at them from the sink, rubbing Doyoung’s back as the younger gulps from a tall glass of water.

“If you guys are done flirting, let's go play some Jenga or something. I’m giving Do some juice.” Mark has the grace to look embarrassed, but Jungwoo’s posture barely changes, and he gives Johnny the finger, even as he grins openly.

They settle in around a patio table outside, and Mark observes a pile of loose Jenga blocks scattered over its glass surface. He narrows his eyes, picking one up.

“Hands across America?” He asks, reading the sharpie scribbled on one side of the wooden block.

“Maintain physical contact with the person to your right for the remainder of the game.” Johnny says, matter of fact. 

Mark hums, poking through a few more of the blocks. “I haven’t played drunk Jenga in years…”

Jungwoo starts stacking the blocks, careful not to read the rules on each one. Doyoung leans into Johnny’s side and watches, seeming a little more lucid.

“What are you doing this summer, Mark?” Johnny says as he leans in to pull the first block. “Jungwoo says he only ever sees you at the convenience store.”

Mark feels Jungwoo tense next to him, and when he looks Jungwoo is giving Johnny the deadliest stare, arms crossed as he leans back in his chair. 

“Take two, give two.” Johnny announces, placing the wooden block atop the stack. He takes a couple gulps of his beer and points once each at Mark and Jungwoo. Marks sips his beer before leaning closer to inspect the Jenga stack.

“Studying and working. Trying to work through my first year undergraduate credits online so I have a head start when I move for school.”

He selects a block towards the bottom.

“ByeBye?” He reads, confused. Doyoung perks up, leaning over the table towards Mark.

“Drink three!” He grins, before continuing with a blissful look on his face. “Baby, bye bye bye!”

Mark laughs, and does as he’s told.

“I spend like three or four days a week at the animal hospital on Shadow ave. Just trying to get some relevant job experience.” He finally continues, setting down his beer.

Johnny bawks, his bottle hitting the glass table with a loud ring. “You work with animals? Oh my god Mark, that’s so cool.” 

Mark flushes, picking at the label on his beer. “Well you know… just trying to be an adult haha.”

Jungwoo’s stare triples in its deadliness. He plucks at a side block from the stack.

“That is pretty cool,” he agrees softly, and the side-smile he gives Mark is brief but dizzying. 

The evening gets a little more hazy the later it gets. One moment he’s doing breathing exercises as Jungwoo selects a clever block and ends up with his hand on Mark’s thigh for the remainder of the game. The next, he’s closing one eye as he aims a small plastic ball towards the single remaining red solo cup on Johnny and Doyoung’s side of the table and _lands_ it. 

Jungwoo’s arm slides so easily around his waist, so comfortable and natural, and he squeezes Mark as he cheers. He sticks out his tongue and flips Johnny off and Johnny pretends to be upset. For a moment he locks eyes with Mark, eyebrows raised, and Mark knows enough to be grateful, raising his beer to cheers the taller man. Jungwoo doesn’t notice, still too busy with his drunken celebratory dance.

He sighs and leans against the table as Mark starts setting up their cups again, posture relaxed and happy.

Mark looks up at him, and Jungwoo is already looking, soft smile gracing his features. Johnny gone, on a mission to collect a few more beers with Doyoung’s help. Mark is grateful to notice Doyoung seems to be walking fairly steady.

“How long have you known Johnny?” Mark asks quietly, fiddling with the cups even though they’re already organized.

“Years…” Jungwoo responds, face thoughtful.

“You seem extremely close.” Mark comments, and leaves it at that. Jungwoo hums in assent.

“He’s always been there for me. He’s my best.” His face is a grin. He steps closer into Mark’s space, and leans back against the side of the table so he’s in Mark’s way.

“You jealous?” He quips, and Mark feels his whole body break out in hot, nervous goosebumps. His lips part, unsure what to say, and he doesn’t miss the way Jungwoo’s gaze dips ever so briefly to Mark’s mouth. Something hot coils in Mark’s gut.

Jungwoo doesn’t know if it’s his buzz that makes him do it, but he reaches up and pushes some of Mark’s hair back from his forehead. He’s been teasing but his expression seems a little more serious as Mark stops struggling to find words and simply leans into it, eyelids drooping ever so slightly.

A wolf whistle from the other side of the table spooks then both, and Mark tries to put distance between them but Jungwoo’s grip is fast on his wrist, pulling him close.

“If you two are done?” Johnny smirks, popping the top off his beer with his lighter.

Jungwoo seems to think on this, his skin hot where it touches Mark. He gives Mark a look, ignoring the boys on the other end of the table.

“I need to regain my championship title. You’re lucky you’ve got Mark with you cause you play like shit.” Jungwoo finally releases his grip, and Mark tries to look normal as he steadies himself against the table.

“We’re going to win, easily.” Something has sparked his competitiveness, and he makes grabby hands for the beer Johnny is opening.

“Mark is going to carry you the whole way.” Doyoung’s finally joining back in with a single beer.

Mark does carry him, mostly. And they do win, but not _easily_ like Jungwoo had suggested. Mark’s feels it, after they’d sparred off over one red solo cup each. Doyoung is a surprisingly good shot when he’s not entirely too drunk, and Mark has to fight to stay ahead. Jungwoo doesn’t sink many balls but he does attempt several fun trick shots that has everyone in hysterics. After the first few times meeting him, Mark is genuinely surprised at how open and vulnerable this Jungwoo is compared to their previous interactions. He wonders, briefly, if it’s because of Johnny and an uncomfortable twist of jealousy starts to settle in his mind before he shakes it off.

“Christ,” Johnny breathes, after polishing off his last drink. The party has died down a little, and Johnny had stopped the game several times to say his goodbyes to many of his guests as they left. An overall very friendly group of people, Mark notes. Johnny has good taste in friends.

“I should head out too,” Mark says, apologetic. “I honestly haven’t been out like this in a while and I’m feeling like a bit of a lightweight.” He laughs, and Johnny smiles back.

“You’re welcome any time. It was awesome to have you, buddy.” Johnny pulls him in for a brief but tight hug, and he gets the _bro_ pat on the back. He’s stepping away before Mark can think too much about how Johnny absolutely dwarfs him.

“You going to be safe walking home?” he asks, and just as Mark is about to respond Jungwoo cuts in smoothly.

“I’ll walk you home.”

Johnny looks absolutely giddy at this point, and Mark is trying for the hundredth time that night not to look embarrassed.

“Thanks,” he manages, calmly.

They say their goodbyes and Jungwoo grabs his jacket as they head out the door. He leads the way with long strides and Mark does his absolute best not to stare. 

The road is relatively well lit, and the gravel crunches under their feet and they walk silently, side by side. Mark’s mind is racing but there isn’t a pressing need to fill the silence. Jungwoo is thoughtful beside him, deliberating taking a slower pace to match Mark’s steps.

“It’s not far, but…thank you for walking me home.” Apparently Mark’s drunk mouth isn’t vibing on the same wavelength.

Jungwoo only smiles at him, before gesturing to a small path on their left.

“Want to see something cool?” He asks, voice light. Mark feels physically drawn to him.

“Sure.”

Jungwoo leads them away from the road and they walk a narrow asphalt walkway that skirts the park. It’s darker here, but Mark likes that there’s something a bit mysterious about it. He senses he’s a little pliable, too easily led, because it just feels so easy to be with Jungwoo.

“Are you going to murder me?” Mark blurts, as Jungwoo steps off the main path and behind a large white building. It’s truly dark here, and Mark can’t tell where they’re going. Jungwoo’s laugh is long and light.

“Oh most certainly.” He teases, fingers falling loosely around Mark’s wrist as he tugs him along. Mark’s heart speeds up, thumping anxiously in his chest.

“See?” Jungwoo murmurs, releasing him as he slows down. Before them, covered in overgrown vines and bushes, is a tall-standing railway bridge, easily 4 times Jungwoo’s height. It’s clearly out of use, as Mark doesn’t remember there being a railway or trains over here at all. He’d never known at all about this being here, and it was only 5 minutes away from his apartment.

“I had no idea this was here. It’s cool.”

Jungwoo hums his agreement, and steps into the darkened archway. There’s the barest light from one of the park’s far-away lamps, but Jungwoo is just visible, leaning against one of the iron pillars.

“Just a brief detour.” He says. Mark’s nods and steps closer as he fishes out his pack of cigarettes.

“Can I ask you something?” Jungwoo looks at him, and Mark nods as he leans against the cement wall near him. It’s blessedly cool against the sudden heavy humidity in the air. Mark swears it had felt much more dry when they’d left Johnny’s.

“Why do you work with animals?” 

He feels tender that Jungwoo would even care to ask.

“I get something really special out of it. You know?” He brings a cigarette to his lips, and his lighter casts a sudden warm glow across his shadowed face, flame briefly high before he drops his hand and they’re pitched into darkness again. Impulsive and unsteady, Jungwoo steps closer to lean against the wall by Mark’s side.

“There are these long, tedious moments when I’m doing so much paperwork but it’s still teaching me to be more patient, more organized, and like-“ he tilts his head up to the night sky, and even in the poor light Jungwoo sees the light flush visible on Mark’s neck.

“To see an animal, someone’s closest friend, like- _scared_ and not able to communicate and be able to calm them down and have them leaving happy… it’s the best feeling in the world. I feel relief when I can help them forget they’re somewhere loud and scary…”

Jungwoo’s sure it’s the longest that Mark has talked around him, and he adores the open and easily rambling, confession genuine and heartfelt. Mark meets his eyes and laughs.

“God, sorry… I get really chatty when I drink.” 

“No… I like it.” Jungwoo’s voice is a little deep, thoughtful. His eyes travel Mark’s face, and he lets himself openly appreciate Mark’s features. The dip of his jaw, forward and drawn with subtle muscle. The soft curve of his cheekbones that Jungwoo wants to set his teeth on. The exposed skin at the base of his neck where his collared shirt is tugged and pulled loose. 

He lets impulse take him as his eyes drop to Mark’s lips. He wants to taste them, of course, but even more than that he wants to kiss just to the left of them, just on the seam of Mark’s smile where Jungwoo knows his skin will taste perfect.

Mark stares right back, tripping through a range of emotions as Jungwoo’s travelling gaze becomes heavy. He tries to slow his heart as Jungwoo raises one hand and places it along the column of Mark’s neck, touch hot. Jungwoo’s thumb runs restless along his jaw and Mark lets out the breath he’s been holding, only remnants of smoke now escaping from his last drag.

“Oh…” he starts, or states. He doesn’t know what he was going to say, but he feels like he needs to say something. Jungwoo must be able to feel how heavy his heart is pounding in his chest. He swears he can hear it himself.

“Oh?” Jungwoo repeats, expression a little tight, though his touch doesn’t stop. His grip slips down a little, and his fingertips raise goosebumps as they travel to Mark’s shoulder. Mark leans into him,gaze wandering Jungwoo’s face. It feels a bit like neither of them can breathe and Mark imprints the image in his head of Jungwoo’s lashes fanned downwards as he stares at Mark’s lips.

“If you don’t want me to kiss you…” Mark whispers, allowing his hand to softly fall atop Jungwoo’s waist, “duck now.”

It’s like something bursts in his chest. Jungwoo feels it spread like liquid heat through his body. He feels like he eats Mark’s words, nearly tastes then right off of his lips because Mark’s only barely finished speaking and Jungwoo is drawn to that place just at the corner of Mark’s mouth and Jungwoo has to _taste_. His lips connect softly, and Jungwoo feels more than hears Mark’s soft, surprised intake of breath. Feels the way his fingers curl tighter at Jungwoo’s waist.

“Oh-“ he says again, so soft against Jungwoo’s own cheek. And Jungwoo chases it, lips settling softly against Mark’s open mouth, licking against where his lips are barely parted. Mark feels electricity shoot up his spine, and he aches against Jungwoo’s body, tongue shyly trying to find his own. The taller groans, pulling Mark tighter and it might be the alcohol, or the intoxicating taste of Mark against his lips, but Jungwoo almost immediately feels like they should be naked, resents the clothes between them and their current public setting. He curses his liquor addled brain, knowing it’ll stop either of them from going to far. He’s content for now to just taste and taste and remember it for later.

“God-“ Mark mumbles when they pull back for air, and Jungwoo has a hand under his shirt. His thumb hot and pressing in tight circles at his hip. “You’re so….” and Jungwoo does pull back at that, only enough to look him in the eyes, but his gaze is stuck on his own thumb as he runs it along Mark’s swollen bottom lip.

“What am I?” Jungwoo asks, smile wide and effortless, eyes hazy and heavy. Mark pulls Jungwoo closer by his elbows and steps back until his back hits the brick wall again.

“I just. I just want to feel you touch me.” Mark rushes out and he leans up to try and capture Jungwoo’s lips. 

Jungwoo really feels soft for him. Completely turned on and aching for him, and stupidly enamoured by him. The curve of Mark’s cupid’s bow makes his chest feel tight. Mark is so open, so unembarrassed.

Jungwoo presses in close and tilts Mark’s jaw up with a hand at the back of his neck.

“ _Pretty_ , Mark.” Jungwoo leans down and licks a strip along Mark’s bottom lip and eats up the small gasp he receives in response.

“You taste nice.” Jungwoo’s voice sounds unaffected, curious, but somehow the measured response fuels Mark’s arousal further. The way Jungwoo pulls back to study him, to let his fingers sink into the hair at the back of Mark’s neck sets his skin on fire.

“Please-“ he utters, and Jungwoo’s body becomes a pleasant, insistent weight against his own. He licks into Mark’s mouth, prying his lips with his own. He lets his hands drop to slide under the hem of Mark’s shirt.

Jungwoo’s jeaned legs slide effortless along Mark’s and the friction is _everything_.

“Oh god,” Mark moans, when Jungwoo’s lips travel to his jaw.

“I don’t want to come in my pants here.” He’s a little breathless, and Jungwoo chuckles against his skin.

“You’re right. We should stop.” His hands don’t seem convinced though, as they skirt up Mark’s waist and along his ribs. Mark tries not to rut up against Jungwoo’s thigh.

“That is literally the last thing I want to do, but…” his hands find Jungwoo’s own and he raises them over his shoulder so Jungwoo can play with his hair. “Maybe just a few more kisses.” 

Somehow, that’s nearly all it takes for Jungwoo to almost instantly grow hard in his jeans, but he mentally forces the need back so he can follow the new pace Mark has set.

“For now, I’ll just burn the taste of your lips into my brain, so I won’t stop tasting it for days.” Mark’s face heats and Jungwoo pulls him in so he can press his teeth ever so slightly against Mark’s bottom lip.

“Fuck. Never stop that.” Mark murmurs. He feels the answering rumble in Jungwoo’s chest and even though they’ve promised not to go further Jungwoo still coils his arms around Mark and holds him close. His tongue runs along Mark’s in earnest, slowly learning the taste of him. The embers of his cigarette slowly fade where Mark’s dropped it on the ground.

They slow, urging each other down with more gentle lips and slow presses of lips.

“I should get you home…” Jungwoo sighs against his lips when they finally, regretfully pull apart.

“At least you’ll know where I live.” Marks quips, mournful as Jungwoo puts a little space between them. Even so, his thumb falls to Mark’s bottom lip and he tugs on it, eyeing how swollen and red it looks.

They take their time leaving, hands shyly exploring as they walk side by side back to the street. Jungwoo doesn’t hug him close, but his hand settles easily at the base of Mark’s neck as they walk and it heats Mark up all over again, feeling a little small and a little needy. He wants more than anything to invite Jungwoo inside.

Still, when they arrive at Mark’s apartment, he uses all his strength to ignore the urge. He wants more out of this.

“Can we do this again, maybe? Something like this?” He asks, stopping in the first step leaning up to his home so he can stand nearly even with Jungwoo.

Jungwoo isn’t shy as he leans in to press a slow, wanting kiss against Mark’s lips. 

“I’d like that, yeah.” He murmurs and finally steps back.

“Sweet dreams, Mark Lee.” He takes a few steps backwards, and Mark gives him a small wave and a shy grin. Jungwoo turns and Mark watches him for a moment before he disappears down the road, long strides taking him quickly into the darkness.

Moments later, and Mark sighs to feel the air conditioned sheets in his bed slide over his naked legs. He unlocks his phone to set his alarm, but unwittingly finds himself on Jungwoo’s Instagram. For a moment he blearily thumbs through the photos before the drowsiness finally takes him and his phone slips from his weak grasp to settle on his chest. Eyes closed, sleep easily takes him and his mind is just a hazy collection of Jungwoo’s hungry sounds as he’d claimed Mark’s lips, over and over.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark just wants to show Jungwoo a good time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the overwhelming support this fic has received!! Its an uncommon pairing, but one I've grown even more attached to through writing this, so please continue to share with me your headcanons on cc, and inspire me with your comments, and kudos, and bookmarks. 
> 
> A special thank you to those who have inspired me and given me ideas <3 I love all of you - thank you for being literally the sweetest at all times.

For a few days following Johnny’s party, neither of them talk. Mark goes through his routine and keeps himself busy. He tells Haechan about what happened, even though he knows he’ll be teased, but he can’t help but share. He knows he’s crushing pretty bad, but he wants to treat whatever is growing between them with respect, so he gives it some distance and lets things simmer. What he knows above all else is that the next time he texts Jungwoo, it’ll be to invite _him_ out. So he starts to plan.

He opens his group chat with two of his closest, Ten and Kun. They’re boyfriends, old classmates of Mark’s, and they share a luxurious apartment downtown. Kun is a lawyer now, just in his early days, and Ten was born to a wealthy family. He keeps a modest job as a barista during the day but at night he’s Carson City’s most well known drag queen, _Electra Cute_. Mark doesn’t see them as often as he’d like, but he always seeks them out when he’s yearning for an adventure both grounding and exciting.

_Whens your next show?_ Mark types. The response is almost immediate.

_Saturday. Wanna come?_

_Can I bring a guest?_

All he receives in response is a series of kissy emojis. He sends a follow up text to Doyoung to ask if he’ll come before opening up the only conversation thread he has going with Jungwoo, his Instagram.

_Going to a drag show with my friends at the Lucky Penny Saturday night. Will you come?_

He doesn’t use any emojis or any hearts. He sets his phone aside and dutifully goes back to his homework, feeling relatively proud about his restraint. 

Jungwoo has distracted himself for days simply by being in Johnny’s presence. It’s otherworldly having him back. Johnny spends time with his family and has lots of old friends to catch up with but slices out most of his time for Jungwoo. He feels a little guilty about it and wonders if Johnny just wants some time to himself, between his co-op work and his friends, but Jungwoo knows Johnny would tell him if he wanted some space.

His phone vibrates against his hip where he’s splayed across the couch, and he lazily brings it to his face before reading the message. 

“Want to go out to a drag show on Saturday?” he asks, and Johnny’s head rises to be visible over the lip of the couch cushion. He’s been laying on the floor idly playing around on his phone and a Jungwoo realizes they haven’t spoken for nearly an hour.

“You get an invite or something?” He asks, sitting up. Jungwoo tries to control his features but Johnny must see the way his jaw tenses because his face splits in a smirk and he narrows his eyes.

“It’s Mark.”

Jungwoo rolls his eyes and nods his head. “Yep.”

“We’re going.”

Jungwoo doesn’t give him the satisfaction of a reply. He turns his attention back to the phone.

_Can Johnny come too?_

_Sure! I’d love you guys to meet a couple of my friends. I wanted to hit up the arcade after._

Jungwoo imagines Mark, after a few hours of sipping vodka in the dark of the club and imagines the glitter from the drag show glimmering on his skin under the neon of a pinball machine.

_Send me the deets. We’ll be there._

Belatedly, he adds a little winky face and it’s less than a split second after sending it that he regrets it. He’s managed several days without reaching out to Mark, and he’s not sure why he even did that, but the thought of coming across as overly attached sends his heart into a panicked gallop. He swallows, and sets his phone down.

Johnny is watching him.

“You know you don’t have to be scared of him, right?”

Jungwoo’s chest seizes at that, and he flops back on the couch, giving a weak groan. “I know.”

“Are you going to let him close, Woo?” Johnny knows him too well.

There’s silence for a moment, and Cecil hops onto the back of the couch before gingerly stepping onto Jungwoo’s chest with a small meow. He scratches behind the cat’s ears, and thinks. “I’ll try.”

Johnny finally pulls himself up onto the couch and shoves at Jungwoo’s legs to make room. “You like him.” It’s a statement, and Jungwoo doesn’t have to disagree, but he does huff out a breath.

“I don’t know what I like.” He admits. When he thinks about Mark, he likes him. He likes him a lot. He likes the way he stands, his stance wide but his hands clasped together at his front like he’s trying to be polite. He likes Mark’s goofy laugh and the way he uses “ahs” and “uhms” to fill the gaps in his sentences when he can’t explain himself well. He’s been true to his word and has memorized the taste of Mark’s skin. That spot just to the left of his lips, where his skin tasted like salt and honey and Jungwoo feels a hot shiver run through him whenever he thinks of it. More than anything, there’s the way that despite seeming like a nervous wreck half the time, and a little silly, Mark is open and honest and vulnerable. Allows himself to be, as though it’s a conscious choice. And it scares the shit out of Jungwoo, who hasn’t been able to do that for years.

“You’re spiralling, I can see it.” Johnny comments, and reaches over so he can pull Jungwoo against his side. He sets his chin in Jungwoo’s hair, and rubs a hand up and down Jungwoo’s arm.

“I don’t know how to keep anyone,” Jungwoo admits. “I don’t know how to show him I like him.”

“You could just tell him.” Johnny says with a laugh, but it quickly peters out when he feels the way Jungwoo tenses in his arms. “I know it’s not that easy, I’m sorry.” 

Jungwoo shakes his head. “It’s okay. It’s just… me. You know? Seems like such a stupid hangup. Like, I’m too old to be so pitiful about something like this.” He laughs and pushes his hair back from his forehead. 

Johnny hates to see him be self-deprecating, but he’ll always allow it for a second before pushing his best friend in the right direction. “Guess you’re gonna have to trust him a little if you want to go further. Communicate with him as well as you can. He’s an understanding guy. He’ll be patient.”

Jungwoo sighs again, tucking his face into Johnny’s chest. “He shouldn’t have to be patient,” he groans, and Johnny pets his hair a little, laughing.

“Everyone has to be patient, Woo.”

Jungwoo takes a breath and lets himself slip out from Johnny’s side. He holds a hand up, punches his fingers together and draws a line down in front of himself from his head to his chest.

“Woo-sah.” 

Johnny chuckles and watches as Jungwoo stands to wander into the kitchen.

“Bro, you want a hot pocket?”

Johnny’s eyes light up. “You bought hot pockets? But you never buy garbage like that!” 

Jungwoo peers around the corner of the kitchen with a grin.

“Just for you, nerd.”

—

Saturday comes more quickly than Mark expects. He spends the better part of the afternoon troubling himself over what to wear. For someone who’s usually content to spend his summers in basketball shorts, a snapback and a tank top, lately he’s uncharacteristically picky about his clothes.

He finally settles on black trousers that hug his legs and a black tank top. It’s simple, but it’s carefully chosen. Mark wishes that he could stop focusing on one single thought: will Jungwoo like what he sees when he looks at Mark? He committed to giving whatever was growing between them some space, but it doesn’t mean Jungwoo isn’t all he’s thought about for days. He feels hungry, and has constantly imagined Jungwoo’s large hands settling on his hips, his thighs. He wants to taste him again. He wants to feel the way Jungwoo’s hushed whispers, filthy, pour out over his skin.

He arrives early at the venue because he hasn’t caught up with Kun or Ten in a while. The Lucky Penny is different from where he’d normally go but he finds the bar comfy and welcoming. It isn’t your typical gay bar. Mostly it’s just a venue for local artists and regulars, usually hip twenty year olds and wise older gays. Mark always feels pampered whenever he goes.

He sees a familiar figure at the bar, and carefully pushes his way through the crowd until he can sidle up beside Kun, whose poking at a cherry floating at the top of his drink.

“You’re looking mighty contemplative,” Mark teases, poking Kun in the ribs. Kun spins in his stool and pinches Mark’s cheek, raising his voice a little to be heard over the din of the bar.

“My son,” Kun coos, and pulls him in for a hug. Mark squirms but accepts the attention, laughing. “Where are your friends?” He asks as Mark hops up onto a barstool. He preens with how happy Kun is to see him.

“They’re coming. I wanted to get here early to spend some quality time with my gay dads.”

The bartender comes over and Mark orders an old fashioned, because this bar in particular always makes him feel a little grown up.

“I’m only two years older than you.” Kun whines, poking at his drink again. Mark laughs. 

“I hope you like my new friends,” he continues, sipping at his own drink. Kun smiles at him, and he looks at home in his work suit, top button of his dress shirt open with the heat.

“We will.” Ten appears from behind Kun and slips his hands over his boyfriends’s shoulders and down his chest. His fake nails glitter iridescent blue in the low light of the bar. Mark grins and makes grabby hands at him and they crush Kun between them as they hug and laugh, Ten’s voice soft and high like a wind chime.

“You look excellent.” Mark comments, and Ten rolls his eyes, pulling his hoodie a little tighter over his head.

“My makeup isn't done yet, I’m just going back now to finish but I wanted to kiss your beautiful face.”

And he does, and while he’s not fully wearing makeup, Mark does feel a sticky, glittery trace of lipgloss left on on his cheek when Ten pulls away. Kun spins in his stool so Ten can stand between his legs and Mark watches them from the corner of his eye, trying to give them a moment. Kun plants one large hand on Ten’s waist and leans in to give him a real kiss, a slow, thoughtful one. Even as Ten waves as he leaves, Kun’s hand lingers on his waist.

“Have fun!” Mark calls, and Ten turns back to wink at him as he makes his way through the crowd to the back of the room. Mark leans in close so Kun can hear him as he tells him he’s just going to sneak out for a cigarette before Johnny and Jungwoo show up. Kun tsks, but nods, pulling Mark’s drink closer and setting a coaster on top.

It’s surprisingly cooler outside than Mark expects. It’s getting to be that time of year when the weather sometimes goes from blazing hot to suddenly damp and cool and Mark knows they might get a sudden downpour tonight. He leans against the brick of the building outside, a respectable distance from the entrance, and lights a cigarette. He’s scrolling through Instagram when a voice pulls him from his daze.

“Watcha’ lookin’ at?” Johnny nearly purrs as he leans against the wall at Mark’s side and peers down at his phone. Mark nearly drops the damn thing, and Johnny chuckles, towering over him.

“Hi Mark. Gotta lighter?” Johnny takes out a dart as well, tapping it out of his pack, and Mark relaxes a little because it’s always nice to have a smoking partner. Mark fishes in his front pocket before handing it over.

“Hey, I’m glad you could come! Have you been here before?” Mark pulls himself together relatively well, despite the effect Johnny’s stature has on him.

“Not in a year or so. I missed it though, this place is great.” 

Mark nods, but then looks around, noting Jungwoo’s curious absence. Johnny watches his face, smile anything but subtle.

“Woo’s coming. He just went to grab some cash from the convenience store down the street.” 

“Oh yeah, that’s a good idea.” Mark takes a drag from his cigarette. He swears he can hear the cogs turning in Johnny’s head. If Johnny really is Jungwoo’s best friend, then he probably _knows_ , and with that thought suddenly Mark feels very shy.

“What are you doing to him?” Teasing, Jungwoo’s voice carries over from where he’s jogging across the street. Mark looks up, and his heart trips all over again. He feels Johnny’s stare like a physical weight on him but he ignores it and manages a genuinely happy smile.

“I’m not doing anything.” Johnny grumbles, voice a little whiny. 

“Is he bothering you, Mark? I’ll kick his ass.” Jungwoo’s posture is open again, but it’s a little different than before. It was clearly the alcohol last time, combined with Johnny’s presence. Now Jungwoo seems sober and playful, and Johnny barks a laugh as Jungwoo pushes up the sleeves of his white T-shirt in a menacing manner.

“Like to see you try, snoopy. You might be getting tall but you’re still a skinny fucker.” Mark delicately steps out of the way as Johnny gets an arm around Jungwoo’s neck and messes up his hair.

“Stop it asshole!” he complains, but it’s clear he doesn’t mean it.

“He’s vain about his hair,” Johnny says solemnly, releasing a red-faced Jungwoo who looks ready to scrap. That tugs a hysterical laugh out of Mark and Jungwoo pouts.

“Don’t pick his side. He’s so mean.” And Mark is really starting to love this Jungwoo, the one who is so confident, and takes and _takes_ but can turn into the sweetest, the softest boy Mark has ever seen. Whose a little silly. From the soft fall of his grey hair over his eyes, to the plush pillow of his bottom lip where he’s bitten it as he squabbles with Johnny. Mark just wants to pull him away and run off into the night.

Johnny must notice the look on Mark’s face because finally he’s dropping his cigarette on the ground to stub it out. “Guess we should get inside so we can actually find a good place to sit.”

Mark stubs out his own cigarette and nods. He lets Johnny take the lead and steps in after him. Heat crawls up his spine as Jungwoo follows, his palm a hot weight where it lands on Mark’s lower back. Mark refuses to turn back to look at him but as they squeeze between people in the crowd, Jungwoo uses the cover to let his fingers slide up and over the curve of Mark’s waist. They approach the bar and Mark feels his touch disappear but the goosebumps he’s left in his wake prickle along his skin.

Kun makes easy small talk with Johnny and Jungwoo, and soon they’re laughing and swapping stories across the bar. They order a round of shots to which Mark greedily participates, stealing Jungwoo’s right out from his fingers and tipping it back. The look he receives is nearly feral.

“Oops!” Mark grins, biting at his own lips to limit his giggles, and Jungwoo’s eyebrows rise even higher towards his hairline.

“Brat!” Jungwoo complains, but takes the replacement shot Mark orders him with grace. The lights dim and suddenly Kun is urging them away from the bar.

“We have to sit up front.” Kun explains, throwing his jacket over a chair at a table by the stage. Kun is always excited to watch his gorgeous boyfriend stomp around the stage but he seems especially keen to sit close tonight. Mark doesn’t comment, and sits next to Jungwoo on the far side of the small round table.

Mark hasn’t come to one of Ten’s shows in a while, and so he’s a little surprised when his friend slips out in a tight little suit instead of his usual flowy thigh-length a-line. The pant legs are skin-tight and a deep black, broken up only by the glittery blue of the stitching that travels up the side of each leg. His jacket has dramatic tails that looked like they’re dipped in the same blue glitter, carefully embroidered and Mark is impressed when he remembers Ten does it all by hand. Finally, above the gorgeous stitched collar Ten’s lips stretch into a mischievous smile adorned with sparkling black lipstick. He takes a slow step to the center of the stage and a single white spotlight follows him. The din of the room quiets and all eyes are on him.

“Coin…” Ten’s melodious voice starts slowly, and his eyes raise demurely to the crowd.

“...operated boy…” he paused and his eyes find Kun in the crowd. Stilted piano follows his tune in the background.

“Sitting on the shelf…” he tilts his head and his gaze is appreciative as he stretches a slender leg to descend one step down from the stage.

“He is just a toy… but I turn him on…” Another step and every pair of eyes watch him hungrily as he reaches the main floor. “...and he comes to life. Automatic joy, that is why I want a...” The crowd easily parts as he steps towards Kun and Kun for his part seems comfortable being a part of the show, spreading his legs so Ten can step between them.

“Coin…” Ten drags his fingers down Kun’s chest, glittery blue nails scrunching up the fine cotton of his dress shirt. “...operated boy.”

“Christ…” Mark whispers, awed, and Jungwoo’s hand finds his thigh, fingers spreading to cover its width. Mark spreads his legs a little wider with a quiet intake of breath but his eyes never leave Ten, who is breathtaking and commanding in presence.

Ten lures Kun to the stage and the crowd whoops and cheers as he turns Kun to face away from the onlookers. His hands skirt Kun’s waist until he can grab at his ass. The crowd loses it and their table breaks out into full-blown laughs as Ten’s hands disappear, skirting down Kun’s chest to the front of his slacks, hidden from the crowd. Kun’s body jolts and Johnny is howling, slapping the table.

Ten’s voice carries on, his eyes warm and sly as tugs Kun’s hair out if it’s styled wave.

“Many shapes and weights to choose from… I will never leave my bedroom…” he turns Kun to face the bar again and tugs at his hair, exposing his throat. “...I will never cry at night again. Wrap my arms around him and pretend…” he licks a stripe up Kun’s throat and his boyfriend shifts unsteadily on stage, clearly flustered.

The song carries on and the piano builds into something more consistent, melodic, and old-timey. Johnny appears to be having the time of his life, because he becomes an active participant in the performance, cheering and standing so he can bow and fan his hands up and down in respect.

“Ten is a fucking menace,” Jungwoo comments when the song finally comes to a close and Ten is wrapped around his very ruffled looking partnerunder the spotlight. The crowd cheers and Ten pulls Kun backstage.

“They’ll be a few minutes, I imagine. I’ll grab us some drinks,” Mark offers, standing and already missing the way Jungwoo’s hand chases his hip as he moves away.

“I’ll get next round,” Johnny promises, switching seats to sit next to his friend. Mark gives them a peace sign and slips into the throng of people who have already started to gather again around the bar now that the performance is over.

“I’m so glad we came. That was exceptional,” Johnny comments, leaning back in his chair and eyeing Jungwoo with narrowed eyes. Jungwoo peers at him over the last sip of his drink and narrows his eyes right back.

“What?”

“Looks like you two are back at it.” Johnny comments conspiratorially. Jungwoo tsks and slides his empty glass across the table.

“Stop pushing.” He urges. 

“I’m not!” Johnny whines, but he reaches over to pinch Jungwoo’s cheek anyway. “It’s cute. Your cute. You look happy.” 

Jungwoo gets a look on his face, looking at the wooden tabletop. “Aaaaand _this_ is where I remind you to not over analyze. Just have fun tonight.”

Mark returns with an excited yell and a tray of shots and Jungwoo ignores his friend to instead focus his attentions on the younger boy, leaning fully into it despite Johnny’s teasing.

“You owe me!” Jungwoo cries indignantly, when he sneaks Mark’s shot right out of his fingers, but even Mark’s lamenting is only for show. His eyes glitter back at Jungwoo in mirth, and Jungwoo eats up every second, no longer content to shield himself from the full effect of Mark’s charms.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all get a double chapter tonight <3

The night ages well, and soon Mark’s friends join them and they step out into the still cool air. Mark stumbles a bit, but Jungwoo pulls him close with an arm around his shoulder and they spend the next twenty minutes walking to the arcade and trying to sober up. Ten still has bite marks visible at the hem of his fishnet shirt, and weakly hides them behind a fluffy black boa, and he’s so funny and energetic from his performance that he easily distracts Mark from his tipsy steps. Kun looks helpless under his own adoration of his hilarious boyfriend, and the rest of them are weak from belly laughs by the time they arive under the stretched neon reflection of the arcade.

Mark and Johnny hang back to have a cigarette while the others step inside to urgently line up and take cash out of the ATM. Johnny is sweet with him, and Mark is grateful because he’s a little convinced he’s made a fool of himself already tonight, despite his best intentions. 

“Mark Lee, your friends are fun,” Johnny says, breathing out a sigh and grinning down at his shoes. He seems genuine, and Mark perks up.

“They like you too.”

“And we like _you_ ,” Johnny follows, no shame in his voice. He’s straightforward, and it’s a quality Mark has always appreciated in another person. He smiles back at Johnny easily, pleased.

“Thanks.” He says simply, but his heart is full.

“When are you going to actually move away to school? I’m starting to worry that I'm going to get all attached to you and your friends and you’re going to leave me!” Johnny leans close, and they both look down at their feet. This is the type of affection Mark really relishes. Johnny is an easy friend to have, and after the briefest moment of initial half-jealousy, half-attraction Mark had carried, he’s pleased to accept that Jungwoo’s bond with his closest friend is completely well-earned. Johnny is great.

“You say that like it’s not you who’ll actually be leaving at the end of the summer!” Mark protests, laughing. Johnny grins, but pushes anyway, pouting even as smoke trickles from his parted lips.

“Maaaaark-“ Maybe Johnny’s a little buzzed and that’s also another little feather in Mark’s cap. He doesn’t feel like such a clumsy kid anymore.

“For real, though! When are you planning to go? I’m asking for a friend!” He adds with a wink, and Mark’s whole face heats.

“Uhhh…” he flicks at his cigarette a bit, trying to get his brain to work. “Winter semester, probably. Colorado State U.” He kicks at the ground a little. “Could go anywhere, I guess, but yeah… I like the cold.” And Johnny brightens at this, at Mark’s shyness. It’s been a while since Mark has discussed this with anyone at all really, besides his mother. And how he talks about it to her versus how he might talk to someone like Johnny is a little different.

“Me too,” Johnny admits, a little conspiratorially. Mark had heard a lot about Johnny’s time in Canada from the party and it’s not a surprise to hear Johnny say it out loud.

“I actually really like it. Like…” Johnny really starts to talk with his hands when he’s drunk, and Mark likes it, how quickly Johnny is so obviously happy to talk to him about it. “Like the ocean air is so good for my skin. And my uni is in such a wicked city. I just miss Woo like crazy.” He takes a drag from his cigarette, and Mark nods in solemn understanding.

“Maybe he could come visit you?” Mark pokes, and Johnny laughs, nodding.

“Now there’s an idea! But… Woo doesn’t like the cold. He doesn’t like being too hot, of course, but he complains like crazy in the cold. It’s insufferable.” They both laugh at that.

“He knows they have summer, right?” Mark teases, rolling his eyes. 

John’s eyes are soft crescents over his cheeks as he nods emphatically, arms raised at his sides. “Right?” he agrees, shrugging. Finally their laughter slows, and Johnny sighs, enjoying the cool of the night air.

“He might have to try getting used to it, though…” he trails off, eyes flicking to Mark with a weird expression he quickly covers with a soft smile. Mark smiles back easily enough, because he doesn’t get it really, doesn’t quite hear it properly. And Johnny gives him a second, but Mark just stares back, smile slowly becoming uncertain as he realizes he’s missed something.

The whoosh of the storefront door opening pulls Mark from his confusion as Jungwoo steps out.

“You’re taking too long. What are you even talking about?” His voice is a pout, and he asks his question after seeing the way Johnny dutifully straightens and puts distance between himself and Mark. Jungwoo purses his lips. “Come on, then. You have to show me how to play some of these.” He pulls Mark by his wrist inside and doesn’t even pretend to try and hold open the closing door for Johnny, who grasps it with a laugh and follows them.

Indoors in the half-light of a thousand neon colours, Mark remembers a little that he had been trying to sober up. He’s felt pretty successful up until this point, but the glitter of the game machines has giddiness bubbling up in his chest and he’s quick to drop his cool, mature act, gravitating towards a pinball machine.

His friends stick close by, mostly because they’re still getting to know each other and this place is Mark’s haven, not theirs. They still rely on him and his eagerness to be the glue their group needs, and so at first they just happily watch him as he leans over the machine, his hands moving over its knobs like a pro. Jungwoo is behind him somewhere, and for the first time he’s not one hundred and twenty percent attuned to the actual location of his body in relation to The object of his affection. It’s because of this he completely misses him announcing Doyoung’s impending arrival until Doyoung is actually there, draping himself over Mark’s back.

This finally pulls Mark from his gleeful desire to win, as he greets his friend and relishes that they’re all together here, in one of his favourite places. For the first time Mark notices that Jungwoo is oddly obvious about his distaste for the way others stand too close or hang all over him. Even though he watched Ten literally cup his boyfriend’s cock on stage in front of a hundred or so strangers not even an hour earlier, Mark can see the way Jungwoo’s shoulders tense when Ten places a wet lipstick kiss on his cheek.

The arcade is actually busy, and so it’s easy for them to find a rhythm, drawn to whatever bright and blinking game draws their attention. Doyoung follows Johnny around, ever close to his shoulder, and Mark realizes that Doyoung perhaps just really likes physical affection from his friends. He hasn’t hung out with him much over the years, but he’s always thought he was very touchy with his friends when he was drunk. He knows now that it’s just his natural state.

Jungwoo, who knows Do even better, must know this, but that hasn’t stopped the way his brows had drawn when Doyoung’s arms circled Mark’s waist. Or the hot, angry stare he had leveled at his best friend when Johnny had taken a deliberate step away from Mark outside. Mark feels nearly drunk on it. 

While he wishes Jungwoo would show him how much he likes him by telling him, or acting on it, it’s nice to know that the taller man is protecting something too. Mark hopes it’s the same precious thing he’s been cultivating from the start.

Giggling softly, and so in love, Kun and Ten paw at each other as they pretend to play an adventure game, but mostly just focus on one another. It’s sweet, Jungwoo thinks, how open they are. He’s a little jealous, too. Putting himself out there in the same way makes him nauseous, and he’s ashamed that all he can manage are possessive hands at Mark’s waist. He wants to listen to Johnny, and do something about it, but some things are easier than others.

For example, it’s much easier to slide his palm across Mark’s lower back as Mark surveys what he might want to play next. Easier than leaning down and whispering against the shell of his ear how much he wants him, how much he likes him. It generally proves to have nearly the same effect regardless, because Mark leans into him and now that they’ve been left to their own devices, he doesn’t hide the way his eyelids fall halfway.

“Play against me?” Jungwoo whispers, gesturing to an arcade machine plastered with stickers of zombie-looking mutants and aliens. It proudly announces it’s title is bold white letters above the screen: Area 51. Two toy guns are attached to the front of the machine: one green, one blue.

“Hmm, sorry…” Mark takes on a concerned look, talking at his chin with his fingers. “I don’t think you can beat me, bro. I’m like, the best at this. Look…” He steps up to the machine, tapping the buttons through to the high scores and there’s Mark at the top. MRK - 74,925 pts. None of this means anything to Jungwoo, who doesn’t intend to win.

“What do I get if I win?” Jungwoo urges anyway, stepping up to the cabinet beside Mark. Mark considers him a second and Jungwoo sees him make some kind of decision behind his eyes.

“You tell me, big boy.” And even when Jungwoo’s hands fall heavily on Mark’s waist at that, openly holding him close in the busy arcade, Mark doesn’t falter. He lets his gaze rake across Jungwoo’s mouth and the taller nearly swears at the way Mark’s tongue peeks out to wet his own lips.

Jungwoo, predictably, loses. But he doesn’t feel like a loser. Not with how Mark manhandles him in the dark hallway near the bathroom after their game. Not when Mark’s lips eagerly crush against his own and his fingertips skim above the top of his jeans, pressing at the skin there.

They part reluctantly, Jungwoo’s breath hot against Mark’s mouth, and he’s a little desperate when he asks, “come home with me” into the humid space between them. Mark doesn’t even think about it, nodding eagerly as Jungwoo tries to capture his lips again. And this Jungwoo, just like the one Mark feels like he’s been teasing out lately, is his favourite. Sure of himself, confident, not afraid to palm at Mark’s ass in public, even if they are under the cover of shadow. He isn’t afraid to leave a possessive arm around his shoulder as they rejoin their friends and forlornly tell them it’s late, and they’re a little drunk, and Jungwoo has to be up early. No one really questions why Mark needs to leave, too. It’s, of course, obvious what's happening, and their friends look smugly pleased, even if a touch of hopeful worry graces Johnny’s brow.

“Have funnn~” Ten singsongs, before Kun is pinching at his ribs and he’s doubling over in laughter.

—-

“You’ve got- something…” Jungwoo mumbles, thumb brushing at the leftover sticky, glittery gloss on Mark’s cheek even as his brows pinch in distaste. Mark laughs, and lets his hands run unobstructed through the open V of Jungwoo’s parted shirt, leaning back against Jungwoo’s kitchen counter.

They’d considered cabbing it to Jungwoo’s apartment but had thought a nice cool walk would clear their heads a bit. Even so, Jungwoo is desperate to get Mark home, and into his bed, so he led with long, quick strides. Despite it, it’s only 5 minutes away that the heavens open up and big, fat raindrops pour down on them, heavy and warm. 

They’re soaked by the time they stumble into Jungwoo’s entrance-way, laughing and pushing wet hair back from where it clings to their foreheads. Jungwoo’s especially, tangled longer and meandering at his temples and Mark first leans up to place a kiss there, humming at the taste of the rain on Jungwoo’s skin.

“You don’t like it?” Mark asks, innocent, and his smile is soft, demure, questioning. Jungwoo is still rubbing at the glitter adorning Mark’s cheekbone.

Jungwoo pouts, and lets his thumb fall to pull at Mark’s bottom lip instead. “I don’t like how it got there,” he corrects. “But I like how it looks on you. Wish I’d put it there myself.” His voice is considering.

“Do you want to try some lipgloss?” Mark continues, teasing, but his smile levels a bit at the way Jungwoo looks at him.

“No, but I’d let you wear some and try it out on me, maybe?” He stops himself from admitting he just wishes he could so visibly have claim on Mark like Ten had unwittingly done.

Mark’s eyes darken at his comment, and he imagines wearing lipgloss just for Jungwoo, finding ways to leave it in places on his body, like wrapped around his cock. Jungwoo seems to read his mind, because suddenly he’s slipping the tips of his fingers between Mark’s parted lips, soft breath escaping him.

“God you look pretty like that…” Jungwoo comments, awed. 

It’s when they’re alone, Mark notes, that he really finds his confidence because it’s without shame that he lets his tongue run along the pads of Jungwoo’s fingers, and he melts under Jungwoo’s darkening gaze. Jungwoo doesn’t stop him, so Mark allows his hands to continue wandering and pulls Jungwoo closer to press him into the counter. He presses the flat of his palms along Jungwoo’s exposed abs and they’re firm, like the rest of him, and his torso is deliciously long. There’s so many places Mark wants to place his mouth, to taste. Sucking on his fingers makes him want to taste other parts of Jungwoo’s body but Jungwoo seems to have different plans.

“Can I… can I blow you?” Jungwoo suddenly asks, a little breathless.

Mark’s a little flummoxed, because honestly this isn’t how he expected things to go. He nods, eyebrows raised, and Jungwoo licks his lips and then reaches forward to press them together. It’s really the first time he’s felt Jungwoo pressed fully against his front, hips slotted together, and the way Jungwoo is long and lean but so much _bigger_ than him rings pleasurable bells through his body. 

Jungwoo’s lips move reverently over his own, nipping and sucking as he winds Mark up like it’s his job. By the time Jungwoo’s palm cups him hot and sure over the front of his jeans, he’s so sensitive his hips eagerly jump forward without his consent.

“Guh-“ Groaning, Mark’s hand covers Jungwoo’s and he looks down to watch Jungwoo take him in, teasing him through the denim, cradling the shape of him.

“Beautiful…” Jungwoo whispers, and it’s not just the way the outline of Mark’s cock against his slacks makes his throat run dry. It’s the way Mark bites his lip and looks down at their joined hands, his arm slung over Jungwoo’s shoulder to steady himself.

“God, fuck, I want to taste you so bad-“ it’s muttered between them, mostly to himself, and Jungwoo wastes no time in pulling Mark close and lifting him up by his thighs. They laugh breathlessly as Jungwoo walks them to his bedroom, only a few long strides. He pushes Mark into the bed and covers his smaller body with his own instantly.

“Too many clothes…” Mark whines, even though Jungwoo is already pushing his hand under his loose black tank top. Jungwoo loves the way Mark reacts, hips lifting to his hands. He’s so responsive. Jungwoo moves as though in a daze, gaze tightly focused on each exposed stretch of skin, and his lips chase after it, just as eager to continue committing his taste to memory.

When Jungwoo’s deft fingers part the button and zipper of his jeans, Mark remembers he’s never had a blow job before. Never come in someone’s mouth or over their lips. The thought hits him sideways, and he he tries to take a moment to consider this, but Jungwoo isn’t aware of the mental acrobatics he’s trying to perform so he plies forward. Mark shivers, sudden hot goosebumps rising over his skin as Jungwoo pulls his jeans down his hips. He mouths over Mark’s erection through his boxers and his cock jumps and leaks, darkening the fabric so Jungwoo knows just where to press with his tongue. It’s maddening, the slow pressure of his lips spreading over the width of him even while his hands are clumsily, distractedly trying to tug Mark’s jeans from where they’re stuck bunched at his ankles.

“Ugh, Jungwoo-“ Mark doesn’t know what he wants to ask for, but Jungwoo isn’t really listening anyway. His eyes are closed in bliss as he tugs the band of Mark’s shorts to just expose the head of his cock and his tongue eagerly swirls through the bead of precome there. Mark’s hips jump and his hands fly to Jungwoo’s hair to steady himself. The answering groan has Mark’s cock jumping again with the deep vibrations before Jungwoo eases the spark of Mark’s near panic with a slow slide of his tongue under his frenulum.

Mark’s body lifts and jolts like he’s been struck by lightning, and he threads his fingers in Jungwoo’s hair. “I’ve never…” he starts, and belatedly wonders if this is an embarrassing fact he should keep to himself. Jungwoo seems to understand, though, because he locks eyes with Mark as he peels his boxers down to this thighs and takes the head of Mark’s cock between his lips.

It’s electric, tight hot heat, and Mark’s body tunes to the small hums of pleasure Jungwoo lets out as he takes more and more of Mark into his mouth.

“Oh god, oh god-“ Mark shudders, thumbs sweeping over where Jungwoo’s cheeks are hollowed. His eyes rise to the ceiling, and he wonders how he got from replaying the image of Jungwoo straddling his bike over and over in his mind to Jungwoo’s lips eagerly wrapped around his cock. Soft and feathery, his hair lands across his own forehead and nose and he pushes down over Mark’s cock as far as he can in one go.

Long-fingered hands explore Mark’s body as his mouth takes him apart. His shirt is pushed up to his armpits, and nimble fingers slide dry over the raised nubs on Mark’s chest. Mark whimpers, and their eyes lock. Jungwoo looks up at him with a helpless expression, eyebrows drawn before his eyes flutter shut and he sucks Mark down further again. 

Mark rocks his hips a little and Jungwoo lets him, encouraging him with soft moans. His fingers circling his nipples until they’re swollen and raised and he groans around Mark’s cock whenever the younger man keeps and cries under the attention.

“I-I’m going to come-“ Mark warns, voice unsteady. Pride clouds Jungwoo’s face and he sucks harder, tongue running restlessly under the head of Mark’s cock as Mark’s precome beads and leaks. He ignores Mark’s fingers tightening in his hair, the choked breaths he lets out, and he takes all of Mark until the head of his cock is snug against the back of his throat and _swallows_.

The sound Mark makes when he comes is helpless, soft, and Jungwoo burns it into his memory. Mark’s come jerks like ropes against his tongue and it floods his mouth quicker than he can swallow. But he tries his best, eyelids closed in bliss as he milks Mark dry with his lips around the head of his cock. Even as Mark’s hips finally sink back into the bed and his hands start restlessly running over Jungwoo’s cheeks, he still suckles lightly at Mark’s softening cock. A particularly uncomfortable whine from Mark has Jungwoo finally pulling away, regretful and pouting. He lets Mark’s cock fall softly against his own thigh, gaze reverent and he licks at his lips as he swallows again.

“Fuck… fuck, that was…” Mark says, blissed out and barely-lucid, staring down at Jungwoo with a dopey expression. Jungwoo preens, hands running over Mark’s thighs.

“You taste amazing. Just amazing…” Jungwoo’s lips drop to his hip even as he tugs Mark’s jeans up and tucks him back into his shorts.

“I want to touch you. Please.” Mark is coming back to himself a bit, and he eagerly pulls Jungwoo close, pulling him to straddle Mark’s waist. “You got this hard from that?” he questions in awe, mostly to himself. His palm is running along the front of Jungwoo’s tented jeans and Jungwoo’s cock is rigid like stone under the unforgiving denim. Even under the pressure of such obvious need, Jungwoo keeps his cool, and calmly places his hand over Mark’s.

“You don’t have to.” He says politely, but Mark doesn’t miss the way he rocks his hips subtly into Mark’s grip.

“I want to,” Mark insists. “I want to see you. Can I?” And so Jungwoo nods, and drops his hands so Mark can take his fill. He watches, eyes intent on where Mark touches him unabashedly, expression open with want. He usually gets off on breaking his partner now, plucking at them like the strings of a harp until they’re vibrating with need. He likes it for many reasons, but one is the comfort it allows, behind the illusion of control. It isn’t easy to lock his hands at his side and let Mark touch him without restraint.

Mark doesn’t embarrass easily, even when he struggles with the button of Jungwoo’s jeans because they’re frankly too tight to begin with, even without the added issue of his cock pulling them taught. He bites his tongue between his teeth as he nimbly pulls the zipper down and shimmies the denim a little farther down his hips. 

“Look at you…” Mark whispers, and again Jungwoo thinks he’s mostly talking to himself but the effect it has is like a small zing up his spine, unexpectedly pleasurable. He tugs Jungwoo from the confines of his boxers and his cock hits his belly right where his shirt is parted, slapping hard against his skin and bouncing. The head is a dusty pink, and glistening from where the taste of Mark has driven him mad with need.

“Will you come on my chest?” Marks asks, voice small but sure. Jungwoo again can only nod, entranced by the way Mark fully presses himself into the bed and urges Jungwoo to sit a little higher up on his chest. He isn’t shy about the way he appreciates Jungwoo’s cock, licking his lips at the weight of him in his hand, at the way he can’t cover even half of Jungwoo’s length with a loose fist.

Mark briefly considers asking if Jungwoo has some lube, but it’s clearly not necessary because his cock now oozes a steady stream of sloppy precome. His erection is tight and hard under velvet flesh, and Mark’s hand glides easily over it with the addition of the pre-ejaculate.

He jerks in Mark’s hand but he is near-silent, sucking in a shuddering breath. Mark stares up at him and strokes again, and Mark feels more than sees the way Jungwoo’s balls tighten to his body.

“You’re so close already.” Mark comments, and it’s not a tease, but it has that effect. He’s awed and flattered that Jungwoo can get like this simply by sucking Mark’s cock. Jungwoo places his hands on the younger’s chest and leans over him, letting his hips rock subtly into Mark’s grip as his fist starts to move a little faster.

They both look down and watch as Jungwoo’s cock- so, so swollen- disappears and re-appears within Mark’s tight grip. Mark tries what he likes on himself, and twists his hand, letting his fingertips catch on the sensitive place right beneath Jungwoo’s cockhead. His mind reels at the size of him in his fist, and he brings his other hand around to use both to fist him, smearing precome with his thumb.

“Oof-“ Jungwoo breathes, feeling his pleasure coil impossibly tighter in his stomach like a white-hot snake ready to strike. His hips start to lose their rhythm where they’re chasing each of Mark’s strokes and Mark urges him on, voice soft and encouraging.

“Please, _please_.” And something snaps in Jungwoo at that, the way Mark pleads quietly even as both his fists grip Jungwoo like the devil, and Jungwoo wants to push them further, ever so slightly. Because this is perfect, and they’re so in sync, and it’s so fucking fun that Jungwoo trusts his instincts. 

“ _Baby_ -“ Jungwoo coos, allowing the ghost of a plea to ride on his voice and something in Mark’s posture changes, twists. It’s hard to tell really who has the upper hand. Because one second Mark feels like he’s gently encouraging Jungwoo to come all over his nipples (effectively generating a memory that will serve him well for years in his spankbank) and in the next, Jungwoo is looking down at him with soft understanding, as if it’s him using Mark’s fist, not Mark pulling him over the edge, and the power rips through him and settles in his gut.

Mark’s strokes go short and restless as he struggles to determine what’s turning him on more. He doesn’t have long to think about it, because suddenly Jungwoo’s fist is covering his own, long fingers easily dwarfing his and _squeezing_ as Jungwoo’s cock throbs and spills into their hands.

And Jungwoo uses him as Mark had expected, rutting his slippery cock against the expanse of Mark’s chest. His fingertips rub come across Mark’s swollen nipples and Mark can only watch, shocked and pliant as Jungwoo raises fingers to his lips and sucks his own come off of them.

“Christ…” Mark’s voice is a wreck and he pulls in a shuddering breath. Jungwoo shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back, eyes closed as he catches his breath. Mark’s hands settle on his waist, rubbing comforting circles there.

“God… who won at Area 51 again? Cause I feel like a fucking winner right now.” 

Jungwoo laughs and looks down at him, hand falling to softly push Mark’s hair off his forehead.

“You’re fucking special, Mark Lee.” He says it playfully, but his gaze, his tone are thoughtful, fond. He fights the worrying thoughts that still try to claw at the edges of his consciousness.

“You too,” is all Mark can say, genuine and hopeful. 

_I like you I like you I like you_.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some filthy thoughts I need to get out!
> 
> Find me on   
> twitter:@prittleceebs  
> CC: https://curiouscat.me/prittleceebs

A week passes by, and Mark and Jungwoo have been texting, but haven’t see each other again. Jungwoo sends the first little kissy face emoji and Johnny is ecstatic. Mark, sensing Jungwoo’s willingness to open up, texts him back with fervor. Sometimes a cute dog meme, sometimes an innocent “What r u up to 2night?”. Jungwoo always responds with little delay. “Studying, wbu?” or “Just went to the store.” They’re still pacing themselves, and Jungwoo’s grateful that Mark doesn't push him. He hasn’t been in constant communication with anyone this much in years except for Johnny, and he’s still feeling it out.

_Going to the store - want to come?_

Its an innocent enough text, but it means a lot more. They haven't seen each other, or even talked about seeing each other since that night. And while they’ve had a flirtatious courtship, neither have invited the other out again. Jungwoo’s heart flutters a little in his chest, but Johnny is not here to help calm him. He’s off playing golf with his mother and her friends. 

It’s just the convenience store. The place where they met, innocently. Where he first saw Mark stumble over his words, looking for all the world like a flustered young jock. Now Jungwoo can’t get the image of his softening cock out of his mind, pink and glistening in the crease of his hip. Or how he thought he caught a glimpse of some freckles or moles on Mark’s stomach, but doesn’t quite remember if he imagined them. He keeps telling himself he’ll have to check, but his phone has been like a brick in his hand, taunting him with his inability to take action and ask Mark out. 

And per usual, Mark gets to it first. After all, when Jungwoo had invited Mark out first it’d really been Johnny, no matter how much he’d craved Mark’s presence as well.

_Yaaaaa, its too hot! Are you going out to get something cool?_ Even with the promise of a glance at Mark’s subtle dimples, it's hard to reconcile voluntarily leaving his apartment when the level of heat outside. His air conditioner has been struggling to keep up.

_Maybe a cold treat, yeah_

Jungwoo stares at his phone.

_You’re going to roast in the heat!_ He warns, still not sure why he won't just say _yes_.

_You could drive me home ;)_

Now _that_ is a thought. Mark’s slender legs tucked to his thighs, his arms wrapped around his waist. Jungwoo wants it.

_Want me to drive you over?_ He knows his sudden desperation might be a little obvious, but Mark’s started this so Jungwoo’s shame dissolves quickly.

_I’ll meet you there. Already on my way._ For some reason the thought that Mark didn’t wait for him to answer before leaving clenches something inside him. Something possessive and unknown. He’s slipping into his boots before he knows it, and sends Mark a peace sign, which is anything but what he feels.

It’s only a little less than 10 minutes to the store, mostly because of how long it takes to meander all the suburban streets of his neighborhood and make it to the main drag. Even so, it feels like it takes too long, and he’s sweating with the heat by the time he arrives, trying to calm the over-eager racing of his heart.

“Woo!” Doyoung cheers merrily when he finally steps inside. He must look a little flustered, because Do tilts his head and smiles lightly, chin in his hand.

“What's up?”

“What's up?” Jungwoo mirrors, distracted, and shakes his head to clear the fog. “It's hot out.” He announces, like it's a revelation, and Do actually has the gall to laugh at him.

“Yeah.” Doyoung agrees, bemused. Jungwoo can’t handle the scrutiny any further, and at a loss for how to recover he steps away to the far aisle with the intention of looking for something cool in the freezer. It’s the only thing that has any hope of explaining his stupor to Doyoung.

When he turns the corner, a cooler door is already open and through the foggy glass he can see Mark, face pressed into the crack of the open door as cool mist rolls over his face.

“Do’ll be mad.” Jungwoo murmurs, chest a little tight when Mark peers around the door at him. “Wasting the cold like that.”

Mark smiles and doesn’t say anything. He ducks his head back into the cooler, but this time he’s rummaging for something, a soda maybe. He leans down to check something on a lower shelf and Jungwoo swallows at the long expanse of his naked leg. His eyes travel from his bare ankles, all the way up to where a pair of jean shorts barely cover the curve of his ass. When his eyes finally find Mark’s, he realizes the shorter man has straightened, and is closing the cooler door with a smirk. _Fucking cheeky_ , Jungwoo thinks.

Somehow in only the span of a handful of weeks, the Mark he knows is a different person. He thought he had met a simple, practical guy, and maybe not a straight guy, but Mark gave off such serious jock vibes that at first Jungwoo had only had the instinct to tease him. Even as he stumbled through his visible crush on Jungwoo the first couple times, or especially when he had first met Johnny and had appeared to very nearly vaporized from the size of him. But now, Mark seems confident in a pair of barely-there shorts. Perhaps with the simple blue t-shirt and the baseball cap, he can easily blend in. But Jungwoo knows better. Those legs are there for _him_. The thought makes his chest tighten.

“You look a little overdressed.” Mark comments, as though reading his mind. “For this heat, I mean.” Two bottles of coke hang from his fingers as he approaches the taller man. Jungwoo swallows, and hums as though in thought.

“You should wear pants... when you ah- when you ride a motorcycle.” Is all he says by way of explanation. After a pause: “In fact, it’s a little unsafe for you to ride with me… dressed like that.” It gives him an opportunity to openly take in the naked expanse of legs in question as Mark approaches. Mark’s smile falters a little as he looks down at his own bared skin and simple white sneakers.

“Really?” His voice is soft and unhappy and Jungwoo’s heart jumps, struggling to keep up with each new version of Mark he gets to see. Confident, sure Mark. Mark who doesn't know how to talk. Mark who seems a little naive at times, and terrifyingly astute at others. Mark, helpless and writhing as he paints Jungwoo’s tongue with his cum. And this Mark, a little pouty and a little unsure, even in this getup. Jungwoo feels like he's done a relatively good job of adjusting every time they meet, and today is no exception.

“We’ll drive slow.” He murmurs, wanting to comfort him. The relief is instant, and Mark is smiling again, like it's easy.

“Want to grab some popsicles or something?” Mark has already brushed past him and is making his way over to the stand-up freezer. Jungwoo wonders if this is just a summer thing, or does Mark like popsicles year-round. It's an irrelevant thought, but something in his brain latches onto it to further explore later.

Jungwoo isn't much of a popsicle guy, and even if today’s heat certainly calls for it he secretly hopes Mark will pick something a little less provocative. He doesn't know if he can keep up _that_ much.

He joins Mark at the front of the store and by his side, peers down into the freezer. He sees Doyoung watching them in his peripherals any tries to ignore it, standing a little straighter as Mark bends over, sliding the glass aside and leaning down into the freezer.

“It’s cool in here.” He comments, tone pleasant. Jungwoo tries to stare at his hand wandering over the popsicle options instead of the muscles jumping at tops of his thighs, and succeeds.

“Can I have one of those ice cream sandwiches?” Jungwoo points one out, and Mark _stretches_. Jungwoo swallows and has to step away, pretending to be intrigued by a small rack of movies. Finally Mark joins him, and passes him his treat.

“Here you go, man.” Mark says, like its nothing (because it is), and Jungwoo follows him to the counter because he mostly feels like he’s being led by his dick right now and doesn't know what else to do.

“Darts?” Doyoung asks, and Mark nods. Do’s eyes meet Jungwoo’s ever-so-briefly and the mirth there makes his expression sour. He slaps some money on the counter and grabs his ice cream. 

“It’s on me.”

“But you paid for my cigarettes!” Mark complains, even as Jungwoo is urging him out of the store. 

“I’m going to steal one.” He assures, and throws Do a goodbye over his shoulder as they leave. Doyoung wiggles his fingers at him in a goodbye, grin no longer hidden.

“What are your plans this weekend?” Mark asks, and Jungwoo can tell its genuine interest, not just an excuse to get into his pants. He relaxes a little, and without Doyoung’s scrutiny, he allows himself to take his fill of Mark as he leans against the cement wall of the store, unwrapping his long rainbow popsicle. Jungwoo wont go so far as to say he’s getting mixed messages. It's more like Mark just keeps him guessing, knows how to play every part of himself like a complicated musical arrangement made just to keep Jungwoo on-edge. He feels like he’s having to adapt quickly to reconcile it.

“I’m visiting my brother tomorrow morning.” It just kind of slips out. And it's not as though he’s been really _hiding_ it per-se, but he doesn't really talk about this with anyone besides Johnny, and occasionally Doyoung if its been a rough week.

“And , ah… not much after that, I suppose. Might go hang in Johnny’s pool at some point if the heat doesn’t let up.”

Mark’s eyes widen.

“Johnny has a pool? Where?” Jungwoo remembers now that Mark hadn’t seen it during the party.

“Guest house.” Jungwoo grins, and Mark groans, rolling his eyes.

“Lucky.” He states, and laps at the top of his popsicle, practical and without intent. Jungwoo finishes his sandwich quickly. It does nothing to cool him down, especially because Mark cant get through his popsicle quickly enough to combat the sun’s effects, and he constantly has to catch melted juice from between his fingertips.

“You’re doing this on purpose.” Jungwoo finally complains, leaning next to Mark against the wall. He closes his eyes and slide his fingers across his face, trying to get a grip. Beside him, Mark chuckles.

“I’m not.” He sounds genuine, but Jungwoo knows better.

“You _are_ , you scamp.” He groans, and Mark grins back at him.

“I just missed you.” Its said without much intention, and falls softly between them. Its words Jungwoo would usually be afraid of, but he finds they dont land so heavy when spoken from Mark’s pink-stained lips. Jungwoo wants to touch him, but senses that isn't really where Mark is trying to take this. At least not yet.

“Did you?” Jungwoo’s voice is low. He doesn’t know, really, how to respond. He’s out of his element. In the past he’s been sure what he wants, and how to take it. But now it doesn't feel like that. Instead it feels like they started with Mark on his back foot and now Mark’s got him wrapped around his little finger, pliant and soft and playful. This is what scares him, that he’s not sure what will happen next. And he doesn’t _need_ to be sure, not really, if he thinks about it. But there's still a part that craves it, wants to use it for shelter. It's easy to fall back to his old familiar.

“You sure you don’t mind taking me home?” Mark questions, completely blowing past Jungwoo’s question with an innocent grin. Jungwoo sneaks a look at his legs again, and tries to not imagine Mark is actually _inviting_ him home. Even the ghost of the thought is enough for him to consider retreating from public view.

“I don’t mind.” His voice is even as he scrunches up his wrapper and throws it in a trash can. Mark seems to have caught up while Jungwoo’s been having his internal dialogue, because his popsicle stick joins Jungwoo’s trash, and he dutifully follows Jungwoo to the bike, allowing the taller to straddle it’s body first.

“Oh dear…” Mark laughs, when he realizes it won't be easy to clamour onto the back of the bike behind Jungwoo.

“Take my arm.” Jungwoo insists, and Mark braces against him as he sets one foot on the back pedal and kicks off the ground. They are intimately close when Mark settles and Jungwoo finally breaks, unable to stop the embarrassed flush that rises over his face. He reaches back behind Mark to pull a spare helmet out of his saddlebag, and hands it to Mark.

“Wear this.” And Mark takes it from him, a little unsure how to put it on.

With a chuckle, Jungwoo clasps his own helmet before he twists as far as he can in the seat and slides Mark’s hat from his head. Voice rising indignantly, Mark tries to snatch it so he can cover his adorable bed-head, but Jungwoo holds the hat aloft.

“Slide that on, go on.” He nods with his chin towards the helmet. Pouting, Mark slides it on and lets Jungwoo fasten the clasp under his chin.

“Cute,” he comments, and Mark’s playfulness shifts into something a little more eager, a little less pouty. He smiles as Jungwoo slides his thumb along his jaw and then leans past him again to tuck Mark’s hat safely in the saddle bag alongside his smokes and bottles of soda.

“Two things…” Jungwoo starts as he flicks on the engine. The bike roars to life beneath them and Mark’s arms immediately tighten around his waist as Jungwoo eases the bike back off the kickstand.

“ _That_ ” he laughs, and pats as Mark’s arm. “Keep holding tight. And secondly, when we hit a turn, don’t lean with me down towards the road. Try and sit upright, okay?”

This seems to worry Mark a little, who grabs tighter.

“Like I said, we’ll go slow.” Jungwoo chuckles, and slowly pulls out of the parking lot. 

Predictably, the feeling of Mark’s thighs against his hips make his mouth go dry. Mark’s apartment is a very short ride away, too short really. When they stop at a stop sign, Mark shifts at the way Jungwoo reaches back to place a palm on his exposed skin, squeezing gently at his thigh before they pick up speed again. Mark holds him ever-tighter, breathless.

When they finally pull up beside Mark’s apartment, Mark’s legs feel numb. It’s been an exhilarating, if short, experience, and he finds his legs are a little wobbly from the vibrations of the bike and the half-chub he’s been trying to will away since two stop signs ago. Frankly, he realizes that watching his own thighs vibrate and shake against Jungwoo’s jean-clad ass was just too much, even for him.

“Easy does it.” Jungwoo helps him climb off the bike, and laughs at how awkwardly Mark stands, tugging down his jeans.

“Good?” He asks, and Mark nods emphatically, cheeks a little pink.

“It was sexy.” His assertiveness pulls a grin out of Jungwoo, and he chuckles softly to himself as he takes the helmet from Mark and swaps out Mark’s purchases.

“Don’t suppose I could have one of those, can I?” He asks, gesturing to the sodas.

“I’ll owe you one.” He takes off his helmet.

Mark hands it over immediately without complaint, and stares openly as Jungwoo cracks the top and drains the entire bottle, parched. His hair sticks to his forehead with sweat, and Mark can tell he must be uncomfortable in the heat, with his black jeans and tshirt. Jungwoo tucks the empty bottle into his saddle bag and then leans back in his seat, staring back at a helpless Mark.

“Thank you for the ride.” Mark starts, because he doesn’t intend to invite Jungwoo inside, especially not when Hyuck, who is undoubtedly watching them through the window, is waiting inside. It’s painful to keep this pace going, but it’s so delicious it’s worth it. Jungwoo doesn’t look bothered, an easy smile gracing his features.

“Of course. I feel lucky that I got to see you today.” He sounds genuine, and Mark melts a little, knowing that Jungwoo _gets_ it, doesn’t mind stretching this out. Because they haven’t done much else really, besides play around. And Mark likes that, he really likes it. But he thinks he wants to see where this will go, and that’ll never happen if they end up in each other’s pants every time they’re together. A shame, Mark ponders, because that’s all he can think about right now.

“ _I_ feel lucky.” Mark admits, stepping closer. Is it okay, he wonders, to want to keep things slow, but still want to suck on Jungwoo’s coke-slick bottom lip?

It’s fine, he reasons, and Jungwoo turns his body easily to meet him as Mark steps into his space, hands falling to his chest. Jungwoo catches his lips easily when Mark hesitates, thinking too hard. And it tastes like it should, sticky-sweet with coke and plush and slick as Mark’s tongue tastes him. Mark wants to climb into his lap.

Jungwoo knows he’ll be going home anyway, and so he drops the few remaining guards he has and lets his arms cross at the wrist along Mark’s lower back, pulling him close and licking into his mouth.

“Mmm, I _did_ miss you,” Jungwoo murmurs against his lips, spreading his palms over the swell of Mark’s ass until he gets to the bottom of those maddenly short shorts, thumbs teasing the skin there. Mark’s body responds, rigid as he twists in Jungwoo’s grasp. He groans, standing on his tip-toes to capture Jungwoo’s lips in a slow, fierce kiss. Its slick and a little messy, and he eagerly lets Jungwoo press his jeaned thigh between his legs for something to lean on as he hauls Mark closer. Mark moans brokenly against his mouth, trying not to rut.

“Ahhh, I can’t, I can’t-” he murmurs, regretfully pulling back a little, willing away the erection that is quickly making itself known. There is simply not enough space in his shorts for that to happen, and he’s standing on the side of the road in a family neighbourhood. 

“My roommate is home.” He laments, and licks at Jungwoo’s lips again. Jungwoo hums, chasing his mouth as he pulls away, hand spread possessively over one asscheek.

“Okay, baby. No rush.” Jungwoo’s voice is understanding, but the term of endearment does little to help Mark’s situation.

“Oh, god, you’re so-” Mark leans up to capture Jungwoo’s lips again, drawn to him like a magnet. It’s hard to tear himself away. When he does, Jungwoo is all smiles.

“I’ll call you tonight.” Mark says, and finally steps away, looking utterly rumpled. He tugs his baseball hat down over his messy hair and stands straight.

“Okay…” Jungwoo says, transfixed as Mark turns on his heel with a wave, and starts crossing the gravel of the parking lot.

“Wait… what?” He calls, and Mark looks over his shoulder at him.

“I’ll call you!” He says with a wink, and ascends the steps to his front door. Bemused, Jungwoo watches him until he’s gone.

“You fucking _slut_ , oh my _god_.” Haechan nearly screams at him as he races from his bedroom to meet Mark at the door.

“I recorded that. Can I put it on the internet?” He follows hastily, grabbing Mark by the shoulders and nearly shaking him.

“What? No! Fuck off!” Mark laughs and pushes at him, even as Hyuck crowds him with hugs and giddiness.

“So grown up. So proud of you.” Hyuck coos, finally releasing him to go back into his room to grab his phone.

“But for real, I recorded it. Do you want to see?”

“ _Delete it_!” Mark yells and he makes a grab for Haechan’s phone. Haechan keeps it just out of reach.

“Admit you want to watch it, and I'll delete it!” Hyuck crows, until Mark finally gives in and flops down on the couch, exhausted and annoyed.

“Fine.” He says, interest peaked. “It can’t hurt.”

\---

It does hurt, kind of. Mark realizes that the video borders on explicit, recorded in full HD. The way Jungwoo looks huge under him with his thigh pressed between Mark’s legs makes him break a sweat, and he swears Hyuck to secrecy before he asks him to text it to him.

“Now delete it.” He begs, and watches Hyuck dramatically delete the video with an exaggerated pout.

“Only because I love you.” Hyuck responds dutifully, as if he’s taking the high road. “Plus,” he adds with a wink, “It’s all saved up here.” He taps his temple, and Mark groans loudly as he locks his bedroom door behind him.

He changes into a loose pair of shorts to sleep in, and pulls on a t-shirt, dropping onto his bed and pulling out his phone. He messes around on instagram and youtube, and gets stuck watching some guy solve complicated puzzles for almost an hour. Before he knows it, it’s almost ten o’clock and he’s getting a little drowsy, ready to turn off the light in his room. He opens his instagram conversation with Jungwoo, and sends a text.

_Whats your phone number?_

Almost immediately it shows as read, and Jungwoo is typing. The response is only the digits, nothing more.

Sitting stretched out his bed at home, Jungwoo stares at the brightly lit screen of his phone. He chews on the flesh of his thumb and stares, pushing down his anxiety. When his phone vibrates to life in his palm, he nearly drops it on his own face. He answers a little unsteadily.

“Hi.”

Mark’s voice is a breathy laugh in response.

“Hi, yourself.” His tone is just as playful as when Jungwoo last saw him, and it settles something in his chest, calming his uncertainty. Even so, he doesn’t know what to say, so he blurts out the first truth that comes to mind.

“It’s nice to hear your voice again.” It’s not meant to be saucy, and comes out just as genuinely as Jungwoo means it. Jungwoo can hear the smile in Mark’s voice when he speaks. 

“You too, man. You, ah… have a very nice voice on the phone.” He laughs at his own ability to form sentences, and corrects himself.

“You do in-person, too, of course. But, ah…” He thinks. “On the phone. It’s very deep.” He laughs at himself a little, again, and Jungwoo smiles, sinking down further into his pillows.

“That's a fine compliment. Thank you, Mark Lee.” Jungwoo’s chuckle is breathy through the phone.

“I didn’t mean to kiss you, today.” Mark barrels forward, voice a little fast. “I wanted to, but I wasn’t going to. You tricked me!” Jungwoo melts at the playful tone in his voice. He hums as though in agreement.

“Oh, I agree. It was just a terrible idea. We definitely shouldn’t have.” And Mark can hear the smirk in his voice because he laughs along before he voices his complaints.

“Don’t tease me! I mean it. I couldn’t _not_ kiss you. You just sitting there, you know, looking like _that_.” Mark sputters, and he sounds incredulous. His voice is a little low, and Jungwoo thinks he sounds like a memory of jock he had a crush on in high school. Who’d walk around with purpose, and high five his teammates, and flash Jungwoo half-covetous looks when no one was watching. Jungwoo’s mouth waters.

“If it was so hard not to, why did you even plan on trying to resist, hmm?” And his voice is honey-low, because he doesn’t mind a nice compliment or two, especially if Mark is just dishing them out so freely.

Mark hums over the phone, and even if Jungwoo’s laying it on thick, he is listening and genuinely curious.

“I just… like this. And it makes me want to take care of it.” It’s said simply enough, but it hits Jungwoo like a love confession. His heart feels like it jumps to his throat, and he swallows around it. It doesn’t have to be that big of a deal right? To just tell him that he likes this, like what they’re doing, likes _him_. Johnny predicted this moment and hoped for the best but knows him well enough to be prepared for the worst. Jungwoo wants to make him proud.

“I like _you_.” Jungwoo says, and because it’s just a little too true for him, he adds. “I like figuring out who you are.”

He hears Mark’s smile again through the phone.

“What do you like about me so far?” Mark asks, because now he’s feeling bold. They both are, he’s sure. He’s never done this, but maybe he could, with Jungwoo? Another thing he hadn’t planned, just like their kiss.

Jungwoo huffs a laugh.

“Which do you want to know first? What I like about your body, or what I like about your mind?”

“Ohhh, uhmm…” Mark chews on his lips, considering. He’s pleased to have options, and decides to lead with is heart.

“My mind, I guess. That’s the biggest mystery.” And it is, because it’s apparent what Jungwoo likes about his _body_. He’s isn’t an idiot. There’s a reason he fished out the shortest shorts he could find for today’s jaunt to the store.

Jungwoo was hoping he’d lead with the sexy option first, and he feels a little put on the spot. He’s been pretty honest this whole conversation. In fact, this whole day he’s been the most open he’s been in years. It feels like he’s exhausting his honesty, and he’s nervous to tell Mark the truth.

“There's actually something I’m a little jealous of.” He lays his hand over his stomach, picking at his t-shirt.

“Oh?” Mark’s listening.

“Mark, you’re really open, you know? You’re sure about everything you do…” He doesn’t know how to verbalize it.

“Aww, naw, that’s not true.” Mark says, voice soft. Jungwoo makes a noise.

“It’s cool, you know? You have no fear.” He laughs, and relaxes into the bedspread. Mark is reacting well. It's not scary.

“Maybe I just don’t think hard enough to know to do any better.” Mark’s voice is a soft laugh. “Or maybe it's just easy to be like that with you.” His voice is fond.

“What do you like about my body?” He plows on, eagerly. They both chuckle, and Jungwoo hears Mark shifting on his side of the phone.

“That ones easy… there's something I can't stop thinking about.” Mark holds his breath at that, hanging onto Jungwoo’s words.

“You taste _incredible_.” 

Mark almost whines.

“Ahh, that's good.”

“Yes, it's good. Your lips taste so good, just a little bit like cigarettes, and like gum, and whatever you’ve been drinking… I like that today that I got to taste that again.” His face is hot, sharing like this. He doesn’t dare prattle on about how compared to Mark’s lips, his tongue tastes sweet and soft.

Mark huffs into the receiver, fingers travelling down his own stomach to pluck at the top of his shorts.

“You never did get to steal a cigarette.” He laments. Jungwoo hums in agreement.

“Do you want one now? We could share it.” Mark’s voice is like honey, and Jungwoo swears he can hear the way Mark slides down his bed to get more comfortable.

“I can’t baby, you’re too far away.” Jungwoo responds solemnly, hand loosely palming his half-hard dick in his boxers. He hears Mark’s intake of breath as he says _baby_ , and he’s delighted he’s got at least this figured out.

“Oh, I wish you were here right now.” Mark tugs his shirt over his head and flops back onto the pillows. Jungwoo listens to him shifting, imagining.

“Why, are you getting comfortable? Tell me what you’re doing.”

He listens to Mark breathe a moment, and slips his fingers under the hem of his boxer shorts.

“Ohhh… I’m kinda shy to tell you.” Mark admits, painfully honest in his modesty. His voice is breathy and Jungwoo’s cock throbs against his fingers.

“Just thinking about your hands, your fingers.”

He hears Jungwoo suck in a breath.

“It's hard for me to talk to you like this. I want to touch you.” Jungwoo whispers, fingers ghosting over his own body. Mark hums back at him, and Jungwoo can _hear_ him shifting on the bed.

“I’m sorry. I’ll tell you about it if you want. Tell you what you're doing to me.” And _thats_ what Jungwoo thrives on. He wants to know how Mark is falling apart. He’d prefer to see it, but its erotic to only be able to hear his voice. Part of him wants to video call. Sweet, vulnerable, bro Mark who for all purposes seems like a practical, straight-forward guy. And he’s calling Jungwoo with his hand around his cock and sharing breathy moans through the receiver. Jungwoo would do anything for him. He’s whipped.

“Baby-” Jungwoo groans.

“Ohhh - that. When you talk to me like that, I get so hard, so fast. I get dizzy.” So direct, Mark pants, teasing at his own nipples as he bites his lip.

“Does it feel good?” Jungwoo asks, turning onto his side and tapping speakerphone so he can drop his phone to the bed. He knows the answer but he likes hearing Mark talk. His voice does something to him. The practical, well-meaning tone laced with filthy words. It shakes him to his core.

“Ohhh-“ Jungwoo hears the _tremor_ in Mark’s voice.

“Are you _touching_ yourself, baby?” Jungwoo asks, voice whisper soft. Mark groans and Jungwoo shimmies his boxers down his hips so he can take a firm hold of his leaking cock, thumb smearing slick over the head.

“You sound so good. I want to taste those sounds so badly. Would you like that? If I put my mouth on you?” And that pulls another shaky moan from Mark who’s clearly jerking himself off at this point. Jungwoo tries to keep up.

“Y-yeah. I want that.”

“What do you want, Mark? What would you like to do?” And Jungwoo’s pacing himself, never really sure how far along Mark is. He’s so vocal, which is a huge turn-on, but Jungwoo still listens for the tell-tale sound of Mark getting closer, remembers what it had sounded like when he’d swallowed Mark to his root and he’d felt the way Mark’s cock had jumped in his throat. The sucked-in breaths and low moans.

“Oh god I don’t wanna tell you-“ Mark says again, but Jungwoo thinks it’s a little hard to sound shy when he can literally hear the way Mark is catching his breath as he rocks into his fist.

“Slow down.” It's barely a command. Jungwoo keeps his voice neutral, because they haven’t talked about anything outside of the norm. While he likes to set the pace, he doesn’t truly want to dominate Mark, to demand with the fear of punishment. He doesn’t want to give Mark the wrong idea.

Mark’s breath hitches and heat, sharp and unexpected floods through Jungwoo’s body.

“I don’t want you to come too fast.” Jungwoo reasons, when he hears Mark’s breath slow.

“Guh… Woo… I’m already kind of close. I’m sorry I didn’t mean for this- I didn’t mean to make your night weird- I just-“ Mark sounds so embarrassed, so uncertain, but so aroused that Jungwoo feels like his head is spinning. Jungwoo shushes him.

“I like this. I like hearing you. I wish I was there. I’d pull you close, right into my lap, and hold you tight as you came.” There’s no shame anymore. Jungwoo feels like he’s floating on the wind, letting it carry him away. His words flow from him unbidden, without hesitation. He doesn’t dare tell Mark he’s leaking into his own fist, barely holding back his orgasm with his fingers wrapped too-tight around the base. 

“Ahhh.” Mark sounds so breathless now, his gasps wet. 

“Do you want to come like that Mark? Right in my lap? I’d cover your hand with mine and help you get there, hold you nice and tight.”

“I can’t-“ Jungwoo hears it then, the sound Mark made right before he was about to come, before his taste spread salty and bitter over Jungwoo’s tongue and his cock bobbed slick and heavy between his lips.

“I’ve got you, baby.” Jungwoo’s cock leaks steadily across his hand, despite the stillness of his fist. Mark’s helpless gasps twist in his gut and he tries not to rock his hips, curling over the phone and pressing his face into the cool pillows.

He hears it when Mark comes. What starts as quickly pulled breaths transform into shuddering whimpers. Each throb of Mark’s orgasm through his body is audible by each shuddered sound.

“I’ve got you.” Jungwoo says again, quieter, calming him through the final aftershocks. Mark moans at that, low and open and a little tired. He spreads out on his bed and lets his sticky fingers fall from his softening cock. He taps at the pool of come running down to gather in the dip of his belly button and takes one great shuddering breath, trying to slow his heart.

“Jungwoo.” He finally says, and Jungwoo feels something like worry start in his chest. He doesn’t understand what for. Maybe it feels a bit like the moment has passed and he’s afraid Mark will never want to speak to him again for all the filthy things he’s said.

“Yeah?” Even despite his slowly mounting anxiety, his cock throbs hot in his fist. It doesn’t give a shit what he’s feeling. Mark’s whimpers are still echoing in the back of his mind.

“Would you really take care of me like that?” He dabs at the mess on his stomach with a tissue, pressing his face a little closer to the phone. 

“God yes.” Jungwoo’s voice is husky, tight.

“Would you let me repay the favour? Would you let me try…” Mark sounds like he struggles a bit with something, trying to choose his words. “Do you think I could fit your cock in my mouth? Most of it, I mean. I’d want to try that.” Jungwoo nearly unspirals, and Mark happily eats up his choked-back groan.

“Whatever you like...” Jungwoo closes his eyes and lets his hips steadily rock, pushing his cock through the tight ring of his fist. It’s easy to imagine Mark pressing his tongue across the head of his cock in little kitten licks. Maybe he’d try to put his mouth around it, try to see how far he could get.

“Have you tried that before?” Jungwoo asks innnocently, because he definitely gets the sense Mark isn’t fully experienced. He’s never had his cock sucked, which in and of itself has plagued Jungwoo’s mind for the last week. That he was able to pull those sounds from him with an unfamiliar feeling. That’s he’s gotten to be Mark’s first, in some respect.

“ _Yes_.” Mark’s voice is low then, demure. “You’d be gentle with me, I know it.”

Jungwoo nods even though Mark can’t see him. He sucks in a breath through his teeth and his stomach tightens.

“Of course, of course.” His hips starts to falter, and at this rate he’s going to come embarrassingly fast. “You look so pretty like that, with your lips stretched over my dick. Baby can I come in your mouth? I’ll be gentle… I’ll be so gentle-“ he tries to hold back, he really does. But Mark’s done something to him, flipped some kind of switch that makes his mouth mumble filthy words into his pillow, even as he keens and feels his pleasure untwist in his gut.

“I want to taste it. Go ahead, you’re doing good, keep going. I can take it.” And _god_ it’s the strange, practical tone that does it for Jungwoo. That ‘good game’, back-slapping encouragement that has his thighs shaking and his hips stuttering into his gasp. 

With a hand lazily playing with his softened cock, Mark helps him through it, soothing whispers and hums as he hears Jungwoo’s helpless cry.

“You sound amazing.” He offers, wishing he could spread his body along Jungwoo’s and hold him tight as he came down. “I want to hear that all the time.”

Jungwoo huffs a breathless laugh, falling onto his back on the bed. His hand is coated and sticky. He’s come so much more than usual, probably due to holding back as Mark had whimpered through his own orgasm. He tells Mark as much, voice bemused.

“God…. that. That’s hot, Woo.” 

Jungwoo only chuckles, nerves simmering and settling as he comes back into his body steadily but surely. Mark’s warm voice is a calming presence in his ear.

“Sorry, this wasn’t fully my intention. I mean, I wanted to, but…” Mark chews on his words. “I should have asked first.”

“I enjoyed it. You’re all I’ve been able to think about for the last few hours. I started to get worried when it was late and you didn’t call.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Mark tucks his cock back away in his sleep shorts and stretches with a groan. Jungwoo smiles to himself.

“Go on a date with me?” Mark asks, forward because that’s him and he doesn’t mind leading, testing what Jungwoo is comfortable with. He doesn’t want to risk… whatever they have. Whatever this is. But he wants more. He’ll be considerate, but he won’t be shy about it. _I like you_ , Jungwoo had said.

“Yeah.” Jungwoo breaths out, feeling for all the world like he’s just thrown himself off a cliff and he’s waiting to land in the ice-cold ocean.

“I like you.” Mark continues, tone light. “I want very much to kiss you right now, but I can’t. But maybe we can have something to look forward to.” Jungwoo is so grateful to Mark. For the patience he knows Mark shouldn’t need to have. For the easy way he directs and leads even though it feels like it should be Jungwoo, not Mark, who's courting him and flirting with him.

“You’re amazing. Any time, anywhere. Just let me know.”

Mark him through the receiver, pleased.

“I will. Sleep well… text me in the morning.”

Jungwoo knows he will without having to think about it.

“I will. Sleep well, kitten.” Mark closed his eyes at that and sighs, settling into the pillows. 

“Night, Woo.” Mark lets Jungwoo hang up first, and he grins, stretching boneless across the bed.

“Jesus fuck.” He mutters, rubbing at his face. Jungwoo is a force in his life, teasing him into all manner of new adventures. He makes Mark want to do things he’s never even considered trying before. _He’s going to make me fall in love with him, the idiot_. And Mark doesn’t feel shy, or scared at the thought. He chews his lips, wondering. Is he the only one ready to slip into this, to be open and vulnerable? Is he the only one ready to let himself be swept away?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I really struggled through this chapter, hence why it took so long to finish! I'm hoping to make this fic at most two or three more chapters, with a satisfying ending <3
> 
> Thank you to all of you dears who kept pushing me to keep going and to my dearest wife whomst encouraged me to take care of me first so I could write something good and not forced. I finally feel that way about this chapter now, thanks to their advice, which is as good as ever ' 3 '
> 
> This is just smut but I'm proud. I hope you'll leave me comments to get into the hc for this fic <3

The end of September brings cool that washes over Jungwoo’s skin like a balm. The bike rides hot between his thighs but the air lifts his shirt and goosebumps rise across his stomach. The leather of his jacket no longer feels like hot asphalt against his skin and instead only buffets the wind. Jungwoo’s time to ride his bike will come to an end in only a few short weeks but for now he relishes the comfort of autumn.

The days are noticeably shorter but Jungwoo craves these early evening sunsets for the way Mark’s hair glows in the sun’s final rays. It’s all he thinks about on the drive to the prison. Mark radiant in the half-sun, skin blazing bright and shadowed as smoke curls from his nose. Jungwoo’s heart feels light and warmed. He hopes Sehun will see a difference. Hopes he’ll be happy for him.

Sehun is happy for all sorts of reasons. He’s finished his degree and he’s been an exemplary inmate. He doesn’t bring it up, because he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, but Jungwoo knows he’s been considering applying for early release. This is all that matters to Jungwoo, and frankly it feels like it’s absolutely his business but he doesn’t push because it will undoubtedly cut their visit short, based on past experience. Sehun will tell him when he’s ready, and they’ll start building their lives, making plans and rejoin as a family.

When Sehun hears about Mark (as much as Jungwoo is willing to share), he’s over the moon.

“A boyfriend?!” He looks eager, like its the best piece of gossip he’s heard in a while. Jungwoo chuckles.

“No- I dunno. Nothing like that, yet. But I thought you’d be happy to hear I’m getting out of the house more.”

“You know that brings me the greatest joy. I’m proud of you.”

Jungwoo colours, picking at the table.

“Oh my god- don’t say that. I didn’t tell you this so you could tease me.”

“That’s what big brothers are for!”

Sehun settles back in his chair, fingers clasped together, and grins at his brother. Jungwoo rolls his eyes.

“You’d like him.” Jungwoo glances at the floor, and a hot, nervous feeling bubbles in his chest as he continues. “When you get out you can meet him.”

There is only the barest darkness that flickers over Sehun’s gaze, hardening his face. His smile remains polite, soft, but it’s forced. His fingers tighten on the tabletop.

“I’m sure I’d love to meet him.” Jungwoo watches him chew on his words a bit, but forges ahead anyway, despite the nervous energy.

“Sehun-“

“Woo.”

Jungwoo’s mouth gapes open, but he closes it slowly as Sehun stares him down. His self preservation is never the strongest with his brother, but he knows when to listen.

“I’ve been thinking. A lot. I think a lot about you. You know I love you.” It’s not really a question, but Jungwoo nods anyway. He doesn’t like where this is going.

“We need to have a serious talk. About me and what I’m going to be doing, when I get out.” It looks like it physically pains Sehun to have this conversation. Jungwoo sits up a little straighter, ready to interject, to _help_ , really, because he knows Sehun doesn’t want to talk about this, and he doesn’t _have_ to. Jungwoo’s got it all figured out.

“No.” Sehun’s warning is firm. Jungwoo shifts in his seat, anxious. 

“Woo, you need to listen.” Sehun leans over the table a little and Jungwoo feels anxious heat gathering under his jacket as he fights not to argue, to stop the inevitable truths his brother wants to deal.

“I don’t know yet what I want to do when I get out. But I may not want to travel. Or maybe I will. I may want to live with someone, or… I may want to live alone.”

Like a child, Jungwoo feels the hot sting of tears and he tries to fight it, jaw set as he stares at the aged wood of the table top. His knuckles are white where he grips it. Somehow, his brother trying to let him down gently is worse than a full-out screaming match. Sehun’s voice is filled with pity.

“You won’t want to be alone.” Jungwoo mutters, voice heavy with a viscous, toxic pain.

“You sound so sure but if even I don’t know, how can you know?” It’s innocent enough but Jungwoo hears the defiance in his brother’s voice.

“I _know_.” Jungwoo mutters again through gritted teeth. He’s _knows_ what its like to not want to be alone. Why won’t Sehun just- _understand_? They need to be together. They need to grow up together. Jungwoo’s been doing it alone, growing up, right when he’s supposed to have everything figured out. And he doesn’t. He doesn’t have it all figured out and he needs his brother by his side because neither of them deserve to grow up alone because of the shitty mistakes anyone in their family has made. They can move past it. They can move on. They can do it together.

“Don’t you think I deserve to figure that out on my own?” Sehun’s voice is tight with repressed frustration, and Jungwoo feels indignation boil hot in his chest.

_No_ , Jungwoo thinks. Sehun _doesn’t_ deserve it. He deserves to move past this horrible mistake in his life and go back to growing up in his twenties and making friends and experiencing life but he _doesn’t_ get to leave Jungwoo behind in the process.

Hot, angry tears gather and slip down over his cheek and Jungwoo stands, sudden. His chair makes a nasty screeching scrape across the linoleum and Sehun shrinks back at the way the guards all turn to stare at them, hands at their waists.

“Woo!” Sehun hisses, expression murderous. Jungwoo’s fists remain balled at his sides and his mouth is dry with all the unspoken words he can’t put together to bring to the surface. They slosh and sting in his chest like poison.

“No. _No_.” Jungwoo is the one who stuck it out. Jungwoo is the only one who didn’t fuck up. Sure, Sehun didn’t mean to, but it happened. It was an accident, but it happened, and it was one of only a thousand things that fractured their family, and Sehun deserves to _heal_ from that. Jungwoo knows he’ll never be the same. But Jungwoo doesn’t deserve to be alone. To keep being alone. 

He’s silent as he steps back from the table, and tucks the chair back in to the edge of the table. He doesn’t say the words he knows he can never take back if they leave his lips. His tears have halted, trembling on his lashes, and his lips are red and tangy from blood where he’s bitten just slightly too hard in his restraint. But it doesn’t feel like restraint. It feels like all of his worst thoughts are right on the tip of his tongue, and that makes them _real_ and that makes a Jungwoo hate himself as much as he hates Sehun right now.

He doesn’t make to grab him but Sehun stands as Jungwoo turns and steps away. He knows better than to make sudden movements in front of the guards. Jungwoo sucks in a breath and dulls his senses as he takes long strides out of the room, and the prison. The hurt pang of Sehun’s voice doesn’t leave him even as the wind of the open road dries his tears tacky on his skin.

-

Mark can see the desert stretch out from his view on the path, but riverview park carries a few surprises that make his walks here a welcome change from the hum of his computer screen. Long swathes of water stretch through the park and trees shoot up from the flat ground, golden yellow in the warm autumn sun.

He’s switched from his usual popsicle to nursing a hot coffee at his chest as he settles on a bench by the water. The smell in the air is intoxicating - burning leaves and the bubbling rush of the river. The coffee is milky and soothing as he sips, pulling out his phone to idly flick through an article he started earlier. He’s only slightly anxious to meet Jungwoo like this. Simple, unassuming. No plans to go out for a drink, no heated drives through the desert on the back of his motorcycle. Just the two of them, and the promise of time spent together. It’s what Mark’s been waiting for but now that it’s here he’s afraid he’ll do something to disrupt the delicate balance they’ve found.

He nearly drops his coffee when cool fingers slide over his neck and around to cover his eyes. With a yelp, he recovers and clutches the paper cup to his chest and glares over his shoulder into Jungwoo’s warm eyes. Bending at the waist, Jungwoo lands a kiss at his temple and Mark flushes and all is forgiven.

Jungwoo doesn’t speak as he rounds the bench and sits down. He spread his legs and leans back and his thigh touches Mark’s as he tilts his head towards the autumn sun. The grey of his hair glistens beautifully against the swaying yellow of the trees behind them and Mark feels his heart clench. Woo looks a little weary and slightly sweaty, and he sighs softly when Mark’s fingers twine with his own.

“Long day?” Mark murmurs, thumb rubbing over his knuckles. Woo’s head rolls towards him and he gazes at Mark from the corner of his eye. A softness develops there and his lips curve upward ever so slightly.

“Not any more.” Woo squeezes Mark’s fingers between his own before bringing them to his lips and pressing a kiss there, breathing him in.

Mark is wearing yellow sneakers, black jeans, and a grey hoodie.

The simple outfit looks nice against the warm autumn backdrop and Jungwoo lets his fingers drag up Mark' hand, under where the sleeves of his hoodie hang too low. His fingertips dance over Mark's pulse and Mark turns towards him on the bench, phone set in his lap.

"Thanks for agreeing to meet on such short notice..." Jungwoo trails off, glancing down to where their hands meet. With a grin, Mark glances down as well. Its funny to hear Jungwoo be a little awkward. It’s hard to express just how nice it feels to be together.

"I wanted to see you." Mark says simply. Jungwoo nods, swallowing.

"I wanted to see you too." It’s been hard to push himself to just say these things, but with Mark it comes almost easily. Mark has steadily become one of the most effortless things in his life. Falling in love with him is simple and steady and Jungwoo feels like he can see just far enough ahead to feel comfortable. Even when his heard pangs and heat rises to his face out of embarrassment, Jungwoo wants to tell Mark the things he thinks of. He wants to try.

"Do you want to go get something to eat?" Mark asks when the silence falls comfortably between them. Their fingers continue to twine, lazing touching one another between them on the bench.

"Yes. Let me take you out." Jungwoo's tone is eager, genuine, and Mark laughs, an open, free thing. He stands and slides his phone into his back jean pocket and holds his hands out for Jungwoo to take. Jungwoo grips them lightly and stands, taking a step closer because it’s hard not to gravitate towards Mark, with the hem of his hoodie falling to mid-thigh, and his hair sticking out at a soft angle from under his hood.

"I was going to treat you!" Mark teases against Jungwoo's chest when he's pulled close. He breathes in the smell of Jungwoo's shirt, detergent and sun and the slight masculine warmth of sweat.

"Oh?" Jungwoo's voice is a rumble through his chest, and Mark turns into it, letting his arms come up to wrap around Woo's waist as they stand close.

"A smart person once told me to never say no if someone's offering to pay, though." He sounds very matter-of-fact and Jungwoo chuckles, setting his chin in Mark's hair and letting out a breath he feels like he's been holding for hours. He pushes Sehun to the back of his mind, his chest tight and burning.

"Guess you'll just have to beat me to it." He murmurs against Mark's temple before pulling back. The expression on Mark's face as he looks up can only be described as kissable, and Jungwoo years for it like a starved man. Mark's eyes watch his own, as his gaze drops briefly to Mark's lips and back up. Mark's smile widens as he turns, tugging Jungwoo along with a loose grip on his wrist. Feeling breathless, Jungwoo follows behind, the shorter’s presence like a balm on his very soul.

-

They go out for pizza, because it’s easy and because Jungwoo keeps snapshotting glorious memories in his mind of Mark in the half-dark, bathed in the light of a neon sign. It’s a look he can't afford to pass up when the opportunity presents itself. Its nearly dark by the time they arrive, and predictably, Mark is in his glory as he laughs with Jungwoo from his stool at the store-front bar, giggling as he tries to take a bite from a slice of pizza bigger than his head.

One second he's acting like a complete idiot, and the next he's sucking soda from a straw and leaning over the bar with his hand on Jungwoo's thigh, trying to reach dipping sauce. Each time his tongue darts out to lick away traces of pizza sauce, shiny and pink, Jungwoo's eyes follow without even meaning to.

"You have no shame, staring like that." Mark finally comments, hiding an innocent smirk behind his can of soda. Jungwoo nearly chokes on his bite of pizza, but manages to tear off a too-large bite instead and has to take several painful seconds chewing and swallowing it down before he can meet Mark's eyes with a watery gaze.

"M'sorry." He murmurs, stealing Mark's soda to help wash down his painful bite.

"You’re not, but thats okay." Heat spreads through Jungwoo's stomach like fire, and he basks under Mark’s attention. This effortless, soothing flirtation that makes everyone else around them seem like they don’t even exist.

"Will you come back to mine?" Mark continues, and he's fiddling with his straw again, eyes still boldly meeting Jungwoo's. Jungwoo swallows.

"Yeah." It’s barely a whisper but Mark grins all the same, expression pleased. Jungwoo watches him finish his pizza under the pink neon, and with his heart thudding in his chest, commits it to memory.

-

When they’d first met, Jungwoo had noted quickly that Mark was attractive. Attractive in the way Jungwoo felt like he could look and look and look, but maybe Mark was straight so nothing would come of it. With the revelation that Mark was, in fact, not straight, Jungwoo took note of much more. Allowed himself to memorize the way Mark stood, or laughed. And finally, how he tasted.

At that time, it seemed like things were going fast, and Mark had worried that the short amount of time it has taken them to get their clothes off was going to set the pace for the rest of whatever their relationship became. Not that he doesn’t, of course, spend countless hours imagining Jungwoo's lips, his fingers, his moans against Mark's skin. But he doesn’t want it to be a fling. He likes Jungwoo. Actually likes who he is. His gentleness, his dry humour, the way he watches Mark with his walls completely down.

Now with some weeks distance from that night, with nothing more than some stolen kisses, an explicit phone call, and recently a brief makeout session in the entranceway of Jungwoo's apartment, something more weighted has grown between them.

And while Jungwoo isn’t shy with his touches, he also hasn’t completely indulged, and neither has Mark. Just enough for what they have to build naturally, and create a heated desire between them both that lead to meaningful, heavy gazes and conversations laced with innuendo.

Now though, with Jungwoo’s fingers pushing up the hem of his hoodie, Mark thinks patience is a virtue, but you can’t be patient forever. Goosebumps rise on his skin as Jungwoo slots a leg between his own, bodily pressing him into the wall beside Mark’s front door as he pries Mark’s lips with his own. He moves his mouth tenderly, slowly. His teeth, when they drag over Mark’s bottom lip, pull the barest of whimpers from somewhere deep in Mark’s chest and Jungwoo groans in response, his fingers digging into the curve of Mark’s waist.

He takes and takes and takes until Mark is pliant beneath him, sweating under the weight of his hoodie and rocking minutely against Jungwoo’s thigh. Mark hums a needy sound when Jungwoo pulls away. His arms fall loose around the taller’s neck.

“Take me to bed?” Mark is docile in his arms, eyes half lidded. Jungwoo stares at the way Mark chews on his own lip, and feels his heart speed up.

“Is your roommate home?” He breaths against Mark’s lips. Mark eases him back and takes his hand, pulling him through the apartment. 

“Don’t know. Let’s be quiet.”

Jungwoo doesn’t love the sound of that, but he follows along. He has no interest in a quiet Mark in bed. They pass what he assumes in Haechan’s door, and the telltale sounds of video games float out at an impressive volume. He’s sure they can’t possibly be heard over that.

Mark pulls him into his room and locks the door. His hands continue to tug at Jungwoo’s arm, urging him towards the bed, but Jungwoo stops to take it all in. He realizes there’s lots he hasn’t learned about Mark, even with their casual courtship over the past few weeks, but theres a lot to absorb about Mark the moment he steps in.

There are model x-wings hanging from the ceiling near an impressive bookshelf, and well-worn textbooks are scattered over his desk by the window. He steps towards them and Mark lets him go, watches as Jungwoo’s fingers trace over the pages of veterinary theory.

“They offer all the materials as online workbooks but… these older textbooks have diagrams that the new content doesn’t.”

“So you bought these yourself? “ Jungwoo marvels, eyeing an impressive stack of textbooks. “This must have been expensive.”

“Ah I got them at a discount. I’m thrifty!” Mark chuckles, a hand falling to his side so he can lace his fingers with Jungwoo’s. Jungwoo, who is actually in his bedroom, standing tall and radiant and giving Mark an excellent profile. The look of him makes Mark’s chest ache.

Despite the models, and the books and the mostly-organized edge to everything in Mark’s room, his bed is a different story. Layered pillows and blankets that look like a cloud, and tiny twinkling lights that travels from his windowsill to twist around the bars of Mark’s headboard. Jungwoo steps towards the bed and sits down, finally looking up at Mark with a sly smile, head tilted in thought.

“You’re really smart, you know that?”

Mark moves to stand between his legs and catches Jungwoo’s fingers in his own.

“Yes,” Mark chuckles. “I know. Even though I don’t know how to talk, half the time.”

They smile at one another, and Jungwoo pulls on Mark’s hands, urging him to climb into his lap. His hands settle on the denim stretched over Mark’s thighs and they stare at one another, Jungwoo’s eyes slowly travelling over the features of his face before pausing on his lips.

“Beautiful, too.” He murmurs, in no rush. He reaches up to push Mark’s hood back down from his head and run the pads of his thumb over Mark’s temple until with a sigh, Mark closes his eyes.

Mark doesn’t respond, but his mouth falls open on a quiet breath as Jungwoo trails his touch over Mark’s eyebrows, his cheeks and along his jaw. Tentatively Mark’s tongue peeks out to wet his own lips, and Jungwoo follows the action with a heavy gaze. His fingers run there next, teasing at Mark’s bottom lip until his mouth falls open further.

“I know we’ve been patient…” Mark whispers, when Jungwoo’s touch falls away. It’s hard to verbalize something they’ve been dancing around so carefully, but Jungwoo doesn’t seem to mind. He’ll admit they’ve been working on something… something important.

“But if you don’t kiss me right now I might melt.”

Jungwoo’s chest shakes against Mark’s own with a quiet chuckle, and then he’s leaning in to run the ghost of a kiss over Mark’s lips, pressing his lips there dry and soft. Mark’s fingers grip into the front of his shirt as he shimmies a little closer into Jungwoo’s lap.

Like tuning a violin, Jungwoo moves his hands over Mark’s body as the younger plunders his mouth, his kisses more impatient and eager. His long fingers slide up under the hoodie again and Mark outright moans, sitting up a little higher so Jungwoo can reach further up to his chest. His fingers spread out there, pushing the hoodie up to Mark’s armpits and he releases Mark’s lips so he can duck his head, mouth latching onto an exposed pink nub.

“Guh-“ Mark groans and stretches so Jungwoo can reach, and Jungwoo pulls him close with an arm around his waist, lapping at Mark’s sensitive chest before running his teeth over the flesh. Helpless sounds drip from Mark’s mouth and Jungwoo hums his pleasure, minutely rocking his hips up as he pulls Mark tighter against him.

“God- I’m getting dangerously close with you doing that-“ Breathless, Mark pushes at him weakly but it’s hardly convincing with the way he rises into Jungwoo’s hand when his long-fingered grip finds Mark’s erection through his jeans. He kneads there gently, just feeling the shape of him, and his mouth places tender kisses across his chest until he can pull Mark’s other neglected nipple into his mouth. He feels Mark’s cock jump in his hand and Mark whines, clearly displeased by the confinement his jeans offer.

“Take this off-“ Jungwoo mutters against his skin, pushing at the grey hoodie. Mark complies, raising his arms so Jungwoo can push it higher and over his head. When he resurfaces Jungwoo is there to meet him, capturing his lips and running his hands over the exposed expanse of the younger's back. His kisses stray, travelling over Mark’s jaw and to his throat, where he leaves sucking kisses right down to his shoulder. 

Mark feels hot, dangerously so. Everywhere Jungwoo’s lips and hands land on his body light up and respond. He’s completely at Jungwoo’s mercy and the slow, tender touches light sparks behind Mark’s eyes.

“I want to feel you- please…” he regretfully away so he can place his hands on Jungwoo’s lapels, pushing at the leather jacket. Jungwoo sits back a bit so the jacket slides easily from his shoulders and onto the bed, and is pliant as Mark raises his arms above his head and pushes at the thin white T-shirt. Jungwoo’s skin glows pale under the soft lights and Mark runs his hands over the softened planes of his abs, pushing until Jungwoo flops back onto his back.

“Would you fuck me if I asked you to?” Mark asks as Jungwoo’s head re-emerges from the collar of his shirt. His hair flops back into his eyes and Mark aches. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. He feels stronger around Jungwoo, who touches him with patience and reverence. Like he _likes_ him. And while it makes something tighten inside, it also fuels filthy thoughts. Mark takes in the long line of Jungwoo’s body, his hair falling back from his forehead as he arches his back to Mark’s questing fingers.

The soft implore doesn’t match the way Jungwoo’s stomach tightens and his blood runs molten through his body. His fingers grip at Mark’s waist and Mark rocks a little, even though his expression is serious. He’s waiting for a response.

“Yeah.” Jungwoo breathes out, eyes soft and glassy as he stares up at the man in his lap. Mark smiles down at him and rocks his hips a little less subtly, just relishing in the feeling of rubbing together even in their jeans. Pleasure zips up his spine like electricity and he tilts his head back, balancing his fingers on Jungwoo’s chest as he rolls his hips, slow and savouring as though he isn’t slowly being consumed in flame.

“Will you?” Mark whispers, twinging his fingers with Woo’s and using him as balance as he rolls his hips. “Will you take care of me?” Jungwoo’s heart jumps to his throat.

“ _Yes_.” Junwoo hisses. He loves the weight of Mark in his lap. He’s slight, but compact. The subtle shift of muscle in his stomach is visible as he rolls his hips, and his skin is the colour of honey glinting from slight exertion.

“Have you done that before?” Jungwoo whispers, trying to be delicate but wanting, needing to know. Mark shakes his head a little, and his hair falls in his eyes when he dips his face to watch where their bodies meet.

“No. A… little late, I know.” Self-conscious, a flush rises up Mark’s chest, and Jungwoo raises a hand to grip Mark’s chin, lifting up with the pads of two fingers. Mark meets his eyes and Jungwoo sits up to slowly bring their lips together, soft, wanting.

“Not late.” Jungwoo murmurs and Mark relaxes into the kiss, letting Jungwoo pull him down until he’s slotting his own slender hand behind Jungwoo’s neck and tilting so Mark can experiment with searching little kisses across Jungwoo’s throat.

“I like you.” Mark murmurs as his kisses wander, chest tightening at the way Jungwoo’s hips lift and twist under the drag of Mark’s fingers down his front.

“I like you too.” Jungwoo agrees, a little slowly as though it’s come out unexpectedly. Mark smiles at him, a soft, open thing

“I like you, and miss you when you’re not around.” Jungwoo continues, voice light like it’s a revelation. He leans up to kiss Mark again, a little scared, a little shaky. Suddenly he needs Mark, needs Mark to keep being open with him, patient with him. Because it’s working and it feels effortless and Jungwoo wonders is this is what it’s supposed to feel like? This easy happiness. He settles back into the bed after a lingering kiss to the corner of Mark’s mouth, his own pleasure open and unguarded for Mark to lap up.

Something is simmering inside Mark. He feels more breathless than he should, and Jungwoo’s cock rutting up against his own makes him need to close his eyes and steady himself. His lips part as Jungwoo’s hands find his own, and Mark balances on him again as they start a steady rhythm. 

They’ve only just begun as Mark’s whines, oversensitive from the denim confinement.

“I want to get these off-“ Despite his tone, he continues to rock forward because Jungwoo is snapping his hips up to meet him each time and the power Mark feels in the subtle movement makes him dizzy with need.

“Then let’s take them off.” Jungwoo reasons, patient as ever. He lifts Mark easily with a wide grip on his hips and helps him stand up. Mark teeters a bit but Jungwoo is there to steady him, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding Mark’s waist.

He pops the button of Mark’s jeans with one finger and Mark has to hold back a sound at that. He covers his mouth with his hands as Jungwoo lowers his zipper and tugs the denim down his hips with two hands. The curve of Mark’s cock is visible through his soft white briefs, and Jungwoo wastes no time in pressing his face there, lips parting over the shape of him through the cotton.

Mark’s hips twitch and he drops his fingers to Jungwoo’s shoulder, trying to balance himself.

“Fuck I feel like I can even taste you through your underwear.” Jungwoo’s voice is painfully honest and needy. Something deep inside of Mark goes up in flame and he exhales a soft sound.

“S’not fair. I want to taste you too…” Mark sways unsteadily as Jungwoo soaks the front of his briefs with his tongue. The flesh of his cock becomes visible through the wet cotton. Jungwoo stretches his whole mouth over the shape of Mark’s erection, trying to suck him through the fabric. He’s rewarded as Mark’s precome seeps across his tongue.

“I’ll let you. But I get a bit greedy when it comes to you I think…” Jungwoo murmurs against his cock, and then he’s peeling the soaked cotton from Mark’s body and his precome suspends clear and glossy as Jungwoo discards his underwear.

“Oh my god you get so wet…” Woo marvels, rubbing his thumb through the slick still oozing from the head of Marks cock. And then he’s leaning forward and eagerly tonguing at the slick and Mark bends at the waist with a shout and leans over Jungwoo’s back. His cock jumps against the older’s tongue and Jungwoo groans at the fresh pulse of precome over his tongue. 

Mark can’t keep this up for long, Jungwoo has already wound him so tight. Woo’s tongue runs hot over the head of his cock until there are stars in Mark’s eyes and he twists away, hand gentle on Jungwoo’s jaw.

“I’m too close-“ Mark breaths, thumb falling over Jungwoo’s slick lips. Jungwoo sucks the digit into his mouth, tonguing at the salt of his skin and then he’s turning them, easing Mark onto the bed and finally tugging Mark’s jeans and underwear completely off where they’re twisted around his ankles.

Mark hardly has any time to catch himself before Jungwoo is pushing Mark’s thighs tight to his chest and licking across his hole with a groan. 

“Holy _fuck_!” Mark yelps and his fingers fall into Jungwoo’s hair as his cheeks are pushed apart. He kisses and sucks at Mark’s rim, fingers coming down to tug at the slick flesh.

“Mmm, you taste so fucking good.” Jungwoo rumbles. He pulls with his thumb and licks into the exposed pick flesh of Mark’s hole, tongue pushing against the ring of muscle. “Pretty and pink and slick, fuck…” Mark’s head drops back and his legs spread wider as he gasps with each press of Jungwoo’s tongue into his body. His cock drools against his stomach.

Jungwoo’s been waiting for this, aching for the chance to open him up with his tongue, his fingers. And Mark is so responsive, gasping and rocking against his mouth. Without lube, Jungwoo uses his spit to ease the slide of one slender finger into his hole, pushing in to the knuckle and curling until Mark’s thighs are shaking. He licks around his finger, trying to push in alongside but Mark is tight. 

“You’re going to kill me, oh my god…” Mark sits up on his elbows as best he can and looks down. Jungwoo wraps loose fingers around his cock and uses the excessive slick to ease the way for a few gentle pumps as his gaze locks with Mark’s. He rises with a shaky breath and redirects this attention from Mark’s rim to the tip of his cock, which he eagerly sucks in with a groan.

“God… you do love the taste, don’t you?” Mark pets at his hair, and the look Jungwoo levels his way says it all. He takes Mark down to the root as a second finger prods alongside the first at his entrance. 

“Do you have any lube, baby? I want to get my fingers inside of you…” Jungwoo’s voice is throaty when he pulls off, and he kisses along the creamy expanse of Mark’s thigh. Mark twists on the bed, hurriedly shuffling things around inside his bedside table until he’s able to pull out a small bottle of lube.

“God yes I want that.” Mark mutters, pushing the bottle into Jungwoo’s waiting hand. He flops down on his back as Jungwoo rises before him, spreading Mark’s thighs with his own and leaning over him.

“I’ll take good care of you…” Jungwoo murmurs against his lips. His hands run along the planes of Mark’s torso as he leans in and plies his lips with his own. The younger wiggles under him, trying to get comfortable but his thighs chafe against Jungwoo’s jeans and he groans, reaching between them to palm at Jungwoo’s erection.

“Can we get these off?” It’s the last barrier between them and Jungwoo feels a pang in his chest as Mark’s fingers clumsily try to undo his belt.

“I got it, baby.” He covers Mark’s fingers with his own and swiftly undoes the belt. Mark’s fingers plunge into the front of his pants as soon as Jungwoo pulls down the zipper and he struggles to tug the denim over his hips as Mark’s fingers seek their own path. 

“You’d better let me get these off.” Jungwoo warns teasingly, unable to stop from bucking into Mark’s hand. It takes some self control but Mark finally leans back, pulling his hands to his chest with a look from Woo who somehow manages to gracefully free himself from his jeans one leg at a time. Mark laughs, impressed, and Jungwoo leans in to tease a smile against his lips as he shimmies out of his underwear.

“I could have stood up you know.” Jungwoo murmurs against his lips, and Mark grins, spreading his legs further and allowing Jungwoo to sink between them. The slide of skin on skin is like coming home and Mark curls his limbs around him. He feels safe, wrapped up like this. Jungwoo’s body is smooth against his own and the task of their skin has Mark’s lips parting on a breath.

“I wouldn’t want to be apart from you for even a second.” He says honestly. His heart fills when Jungwoo smiles at him and rises, pushing hair from his face and dragging his touch down Mark’s stomach. He’s silent as he coats his fingers in lube and Mark stares as Woo’s hand disappears between his legs. Stares at Jungwoo’s cock thick against his thigh, dusky and pink and thickening under his gaze. Heat prickles in Mark’s stomach, a pleasurably nervousness as fingers press against his entrance, circling there.

Jungwoo’s stare is intense as he presses one finger into Mark’s body. He doesn’t pause, crooking his finger and searching deep. Mark lets out a breath and nods, encouraging. Jungwoo pulls out and presses at Mark’s rim with two fingers, just barely dipping the tips inside the right of muscle.

“Okay?” Woo asks, soft as he lowers his lips to Mark’s thigh to press a kiss there. Mark nods, colour high on his cheeks and breathes out when Jungwoo sinks both fingers in. Mark gently opens beneath him and Jungwoo worships him with his lips and his tongue and his teeth, leaving slick, red marks in his wake. Mark’s noises are precious. Short gasps every time Jungwoo’s fingers sink home, a shaky moan whenever he rubs over the bundle of nerves, touch slow and hard. Mark is panting on four fingers when Jungwoo finally rises to lick into his mouth, expression open and in awe as Mark stares back up at him.

“Do you feel good?” Jungwoo whispers, heat making his voice heavy. His fingers piston slowly in and out of Mark’s body, his thumb running lube over Mark’s perineum. The entire expanse of naked skin between Mark’s legs and across his torso is slick and Mark’s leaking cock between them oozes a steady stream into Jungwoo’s hand where he’s gripping him lightly. Mark whines when his cock is released, and his eyes seem a little less unfocused as he meets Jungwoo’s gaze.

“I want you to be in control, okay?” Woo pulls Mark to his chest and tips them, pushing himself into the bed and pulling Mark into his lap. Mark eyes Jungwoo’s cock, heavy against his stomach. Jungwoo is thick, his cock a dusky red at this point. He doesn’t leak nearly as much as Mark - almost no one does, in Mark’s experience. There’s a barely-there tremor to Jungwoo’s wrist as he grips his own cock in his hand and pushes it forward. Mark braces his hands on Jungwoo’s chest and sighs when Woo’s slick cockhead nestles against his hole.

Its silent for the sound of their mirrored exhales as Mark spreads his legs and sinks back. Legs trembling, Jungwoo soothes his hands everywhere he can reach, his voice offering gentle encouragement. 

It’s an ache more than anything, Mark reasons even as he struggles to catch his breath. Jungwoo is etherial below him, skin aglow and expression pinches with worry. Mark leans forward and sinks his fingers into Jungwoo’s hair, pulling him in for a filthy kiss. He struggles to adjust to the thickness inside, and groans with every attempt to shift. Jungwoo burns hot at the sound.

“Gentle, gentle…” He murmurs against Mark’s trembling lips. “There’s no rush.” But Mark disagrees. The feeling of Jungwoo inside of him is addictive. He burns, and his appetite grows as he rocks forward and then back. Woo’s cock drags inside of him and Mark’s cock gives a jolt, slick now dotting Jungwoo’s pale skin. He’s a vision with his hair falling in a fan around his face, the muscles of his arms and stomach jumping as he grips Mark’s thighs. The light catches warm on his skin and he stares up at Mark with an awed expression. Mark loves him now, just like this. 

“Now, Woo.” Mark demands, sitting upright and bracing his knees. Jungwoo barely hesitates, his expression hungry. Mark meets every single one of his shallow thrusts, head lolling as he slowly gets used to the intrusion. He’s particularly interested in the way Jungwoo’s cock nudges up against his prostate every time he bows his back and so he rests his weight back on Jungwoo’s thighs and rides him. Mark’s torso is stretched long and warm like the desert before him and Jungwoo feasts on the sight. Humbled and wanting, he rises on one arm and holds Mark close with an arm around his waist as they rock together. Mark’s moans tumble from his mouth like honey and Jungwoo eagerly laps them up, tongue running along his jaw and further down until he can suck a pebbled nipple into his mouth.

Mark is a vision, bent and shaking with exertion as Junwgoo holds him tight and thrusts up into his body. For Mark the angle is perfect, and his jaw falls slack as pleasure quickly coils in his stomach.

“Are you gonna come?” Woo asks, breathless as Mark seeps precome between them. Wrapping his fingers around Mark’s cock, Jungwoo drives up extra hard and Mark yelps, nodding helplessly.

“Ah Mark... pretty baby.” Jungwoo is starting to lose his own rhythm as Mark’s cock tightens in his fist. “Come on my cock, go on…” Mark spills between them with a shaky whimper, sucking breath in as fast as he can as he rides each of Jungwoo’s powerful thrusts. He stills and shudders, clenching hot and sporadic around Jungwoo’s cock. 

Fingers strokes him through each shudder and come glistens between them, landing hot over Jungwoo’s belly and chest. Mark is already becoming over-sensitive, brows pinching as Jungwoo shakily chases his orgasm with his mouth hot on Mark’s jaw.

It’s the weak whimper that Mark offers that tears it from him in the end. The way Mark gasps against his lips and whines as Jungwoo’s cock stiffens and pulses inside him. Jungwoo can’t catch his breath, hair sticking to his forehead and his normally clear cheeks glowing pink with heat. His hips rock and shake, rhythm entirely gone as he flops onto the bed. He sucks in a breath and his hands fall to Mark’s back, pulling him down as his cock gives a few final shallow pulses.

It’s like a lighthouse has been ignited in the foggy darkness. Jungwoo’s heart swells under the tender, slow kisses Mark bestows upon him. They both whine when Jungwoo eventually softens and slips from Mark’s heat. Feeling full, Jungwoo rolls them, tucking Mark close under his arm and tight against his chest. Unconsciously, he breathes Mark in. It’s a habit he can’t drop. Mark ignites something in him.

Jungwoo mourns the cliche as his heart twists. It’d be far too easy to tell Mark how much he likes him, how much he adores him in this moment. But his heart pinches painfully and he burrows his nose into Mark’s hair instead, calming himself on Mark’s smell. It’s intoxicating. Sun, and summer, and salt and a caramel type of warmth.

“Good?” He murmurs, his breath provoking goosebumps to rise on Mark’s skin.

“I like you… so much.” Mark breathes out a laugh. Jungwoo holds him tighter and tucks his grin into Mark’s shoulder. 

“The underwear you were wearing…” Jungwoo murmurs, hand gliding over Mark’s waist. “The moment I saw them I could have chewed right through them. The way they stretched over your cock…” Jungwoo sighs and Mark stretches into his touch, pleasure simmering in his chest. “You leak so much… it’s so fucking hot.” His voice is a raspy whisper against Mark’s throat and the smaller shifts in the bed, thigh coming to press between two of Jungwoo’s own.

“You always look good enough to eat.” His voice rumbles and Mark keens.

“God-“ He breathes out a laugh. “Keep talking like that and we'll never sleep. And frankly, I don’t have the energy for round two.” Jungwoo smiles and his arms circle Mark’s body, restless energy dissipating and fingers sweep through his hair.

Quieting, Mark rides his high of having earned something he’s worked hard for. His heart is full to overflowing and he presses his lips to Jungwoo’s skin, breathing him in and holding him tight. Jungwoo feels unreservedly vulnerable, revelling in the feeling of safety Mark’s gentle sighs bring him.

“Stay right here,” Mark murmurs, jaw cracking on a yawn. “All night.” There's the barest hint of petulance in his voice and Jungwoo’s chest grips painfully with the familiarity. He nods, tucking his chin in Mark’s hair as their breath evens out.

The air outside is cool, and crickets chirp under the lamp in the parking lots, their sounds a dull rise and fall of noise and the only break in the silence. A neon sign casts its reflection outside, blinking green brightening the gravel of the parking lot and shining across Haechan’s hair where he sits slumped in his computer chair in the room next door. His controller lays lax in his hand, sat on his stomach as silence fills the house.

“Holy fuck.” He mutters, embarrassment warming the tips of his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/prittleceebs)   
>  [twt](https://twitter.com/prittleceebs)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upcoming angst and emotionally distressed boys.

Mark’s hand are trembling as he tears at the envelope in his kitchen. Colorado State University is typed neatly in green print and it seems to stare him down mockingly as he tugs at the suspiciously thin paper inside. It’s never a good sign, he thinks. He expects an acceptance letter to come as a package, with information about the program and forms to fill out. There is only a single page inside with very little print, and he tugs it from the ruined envelope with a heavy heart.

_Dear Min-hyung Lee,_

_It is with great pleasure that you are hereby offered admission into the Colorado State University College of Veterinary Medicine for the Fall 2020 semester. As discussed in your application, there are four remaining undergraduate prerequisites…_

Mark feels hot tears gather in his eyes. His hands shake and without meaning to a helpless sound falls from his lips as he leans against the counter. He heaves a shaky breath, heart filled to the brim with two year’s focused effort culminating into this huge success. He wipes at his eyes, laughing, and brings the paper to his face to breath it in.

Haechan finds him like this when he exits his bedroom, late as usual even on a weekday. His hair is at an odd angle and he stares at Mark with a raised eyebrow as he slings a towel over his shoulder.

“What’s wrong with you?” He steps into the kitchen, and he sees the ripped envelope on the floor as Mark pulls the paper away from his face. Haechan’s eyes widen as he takes in the tears and concern stretches across his features as he approaches Mark with his hands raised uncertainly.

“Did…” He squints at Mark’s face, trying to read him. Mark’s laughs and nods, wiping at his eyes and suddenly it’s Haechan’s screech filling the apartment as Mark is pulled aggressively into his friend’s arms. Haechan squeezes him within an inch of his life and then starts hopping on the spot. Mark complains and pushes at him but the affection doesn’t end. Haechan locks him in and starts kissing all over his face and Mark accepts it with a helpless chuckle, happy tears rising again unbidden.

He’s full and exhausted when it’s over and he feels a little choked up as Haechan sets them apart with his arms on Mark’s shoulder and kisses him square on the lips. With a squak Mark bats at him but Haechan only grins and turns to get his shower.

“Everyone gets one, Mark Lee. That’s your one. Feel lucky, you earned it.” Mark rolls his eyes as Haechan leaves him swaying in the kitchen, but his heart is full and he closes his eyes and soakes it up.

-

Jungwoo is, of course, insanely proud of him when he finds out. He’s still getting to know Mark, but he’s already learned that Mark is whip-smart and a naturally gifted academic. That he’s worked hard these past two years for this application, that he loves all his patients - big or small, and that he’ll be a successful veterinary opthamologist when he finally opens his own practice someday.

He doesn’t want to overshadow Mark’s joy so Jungwoo hides the uncomfortable thoughts this news blooms in his mind. They sit bitter on the back of his tongue. Mark has always been open about probably leaving for school for the winter semester. 

“No matter which school accepts me, I’ve got about a semester’s worth of my undergraduate left to complete.” Mark had mused over the final month of summer. 

Jungwoo always finds a way to delicately change the subject, because talking about the future means remembering his own is still foggy. Mark doesn’t appear to notice, not really. They don’t talk about what they are, and discussions about their future never seem to involve one another. 

Jungwoo limits these chats where he can because it means he can avoid both possible outcomes: the inevitable breakup when Mark tells him he’ll have to leave for school, and not to wait for him. Or perhaps the inevitable moment when Jungwoo eventually admits to Mark that his brother, his only family comes first and he can’t follow Mark wherever he’s going, it’s that was even on offer. 

Mark is easy and open with his affections, but he hasn’t invited Jungwoo into his future plans and so Jungwoo goes through the motions accordingly. This is just fun. He likes Mark. Loves him, even. Which really stings because he promised himself he wouldn’t. But the feelings are there and so Jungwoo doesn’t act and just waits for the inevitable fizzle of their relationship before it’s even really begun.

When Mark gets his good news, Jungwoo’s heart soars for him. It’s impossible not to feel that way for him because despite it all, Jungwoo is truly attached. He wants more than anything for Mark to do what makes him happy, and knows he’ll kill it. That he’ll go to school and experience so much, and have new firsts with other partners. That the night he had softly opened under Jungwoo’s tender affections might become a hazy, but happy memory. Jungwoo is happy for him, but all in all it really feels like the beginning of the end. A goodbye.

He expects things to start slowing down with the news but Mark seems to have other, confusing ideas. Jungwoo shares a little less than he did before, desperately trying to become less attached and hopefully hurt a little less before Mark’s inevitable departure. Mark seems to cling ever-closer. The following sunday night, Jungwoo finds himself invited to Mark’s mom’s house for a celebratory dinner, and he’s anxious to meet the mother of the boy who is breaking his heart.

“Did you pass your exam?” Mark whispers, kissing at the corner of his mouth when Jungwoo comes to pick him up in the small parking lot of his apartment building. Jungwoo’s eyes close as he memorizes the feeling of Mark’s tender smile against his lips.

“Did I _pass_?” He admonishes, rolling his eyes and Mark _whines_ as he settles behind Jungwoo on the bike. Jungwoo chuckles as he passes Mark his helmet.

“Well you never told me! How do I know?” Mark teases, but Jungwoo hears the real complaint under it all. Jungwoo has been trying to pull back and maybe, just maybe, Mark has actually noticed.

“I passed.” Jungwoo breathes, apologetic. “I did just fine, but it wasn’t easy with all those sleepless nights leading up to it.” He quips, eager to change the subject. Mark pokes at him.

“I’m not ashamed. You needed the distraction. I swear looking at that code all day is enough to make you go cross-eyed!” His tone is teasing and Jungwoo’s chest pangs. Even as he holds Mark at arm’s length Mark weasels his way back in, unhurt and open.

The ride to Mrs Lee’s is lighter than Jungwoo had expected. Mark wraps his arms around his waist, and the weight of him is such a comfort that Jungwoo is almost successful at holding the regret at bay. He aches for Mark Lee, however much he desperately tries not to.

His mother is a vision, and pulls him in for a hug like it’s nothing. She is just as effortlessly attentive to him as Mark is and Jungwoo is so overwhelmed by the double threat that the only comfort is Mark’s teenage brother who gives off the air of ‘go fuck yourself’. Jungwoo likes him immediately. 

The unexpected consequence of this is the love that shines in Mark’s eyes when he sees how well his dick of a brother gets along with Jungwoo, and Jungwoo has to hide in the bathroom before dinner to calm the raging, unbalanced emotions he’s fighting when he sees how clearly he is welcome in their family. He does not cry.

The rush of emotions suddenly makes it clear that whatever this is is coming to a head. That he won’t be able to avoid it much longer. But somehow, he’s able to forget for a couple blissful hours as Mrs Lee pushes him to eat and tells silly stories of her son when he was younger. He shares looks with Jisung filled with subdued mirth, and Mark holds his hand under the table.

Johnny has to leave to go back to school, and his constant recent obsession with a mystery texter tells Jungwoo that Johnny is going back to someone. Johnny’s face colours when Jungwoo asks, and Jungwoo tries to feel happy for him when Johnny shows the boy’s picture. Jungwoo doesn’t harbour any lingering romantic inclinations for Johnny but illogically, his brain tells him its some kind of betrayal. When Johnny’s left and Jungwoo tells Mark he needs a weekend to himself, he nurses his feelings over junk food that reminds him of Johnny and tries to put his head back on straight.

He’s grateful that when Mark finally comes over after work Monday night, he doesn’t push or beg him to open up. He holds him close and kisses him sweetly and helpless, Jungwoo lets Mark take care of him. Jungwoo feels like he’s watching someone hold his beating heart in their hands and any second it’s going to accidentally tumble out of their fingers and be lost.

It feels like something needs to be said. Jungwoo wants to ask what Mark wants, what he feels and what he thinks, but it’s easier to let the poison sit in his heart and enjoy each precious moment with Mark instead of prematurely destroying what time they have left. 

And for his part, Mark wants to ask too. When he grips to Jungwoo, he grips hard. Afraid to ask the big question that could make Jungwoo turn tail and run, but wanting desperately to throw caution to the wind and make things serious. _Will you move to Colorado with me?_ He practices in his mind, near-manic when he gets close to calling Jungwoo in the middle of the night. 

_Would you leave Carson City to wait for your brother with me? We could come back to visit him every couple weeks and ask him to move in with us when he’s out._ Mark is willing to try anything. He’s learned a lot about Sehun, and Jungwoo’s relationship with him. He would happily live with them both until Sehun got back on his feet. Jungwoo could go to school with Mark. Sehun could do whatever his heart desired, knowing he had a family to come home to every night.

The problem, Mark reasons, is that they haven’t even made it official. Not what they might have in the future and not what they have presently, no matter how carefully cultivated. He tries to show Jungwoo how he feels with slow, tender kisses. He holds his hand fast. He gazes into Jungwoo’s eyes with a cloudless desire and hopes it’s enough but he, too, would rather sit with the pain instead of sullying what they have. He knows Jungwoo will never say yes. He knows he would never leave his brother.

It culminates like most things, in the most unlikely and unpleasant sort of way. They pine and hold fast to each other deeply, and make love each time like its their last. Desire and pain whispered between them as they hold each other tightly. Sometimes one, or both of them will rip themselves away like they’re wrenching open a wound. Often Jungwoo, who is living as though their inevitable separation has already happened. Mark when he feels helpless, but mostly he is reaching out, grasping for and holding onto what he has.

“Don’t go-” Mark will whisper in the half-light when Jungwoo blearily watches the sun rise from Mark’s bed and his muscles shift as he prepares to rise with it. Mark grips at him, body hot against his own, trying to tempt him. _We need to talk_ , he thinks, and it sits heavy at the back of his tongue. He’s so close to saying it. Why can’t he say it? Isn’t it better to have fought for something and have lost it than to watch it whither away before your very eyes?

Jungwoo will kiss him hard, pained, and hold his face. These days he always looks like he’s about to cry and Mark finds it a stark contrast from the days when Jungwoo was hard to read and Mark would trip over his own tongue. Now he is so much more open in his vulnerability, and isn’t that what Mark wanted? To earn that? But no, he thinks. Not like this. When Jungwoo will slip out in the early morning and Mark’s bed cools and he cries he’s so furious with himself.

Johnny doesn’t text as much as he should, or as much as he used to. Jungwoo tries to not let it get to him because he knows Johnny is living his own fairytale, bound to be fraught with love and pain both. When he checks in he talks about his boyfriend Taeyong and Jungwoo sees that Johnny is happy. They facetime, and Johnny worries after him, but then days go by with nothing. Jungwoo doesn’t want to be needy, has never wanted to _need_ anything, after all that’s happened. He’s changed, with Mark. Mark, who he’s never gotten to call his boyfriend. It seems too late now to ask.

Thankfully, Johnny is due for a visit at the end of the month for Ten’s Halloween party. Johnny hit it off immensely with Kun and Ten and Jungwoo and Mark both have enjoyed watching their exploits on social media. Ten’s saucy comments on instagram and Kun’s thoughtful, PG-rated encouragement about law school on facebook. 

Mark assures him that Ten and Kun rarely host a party, but when they do it is legendary. He’s excited for the chance to spend more time with Mark’s friends and more than anything to see Johnny back. To get the advice he so desperately needs to move on from the persistent thoughts that keep him up at night. He feels sick with it. Johnny’s only ever been the one able to pull him from that place.

He goes a week without visiting Sehun, but the day of the party they finally catch up on the phone. His brother’s voice is raspy. He sounds exhausted.

“This isn’t what either of us wanted, Woo. We’re a family, you and I. We can work this out, can’t we?” His voice is plaintive and filled with love. Jungwoo is so emotionally exhausted and distraught he can barely answer.

“Tell me we’ll be together. You and I, wherever we go.” There’s stubborness in his voice and the silence that follows says it all for Jungwoo. He grits his teeth.

“We’ll always be together. No matter where we live, or what we do. But it’s not as simple for me to live the way you want to live. It’s healthy to want-”

“So now what I want is _unhealthy_?” Jungwoo breathes, hands shaking as he grips his phone. “To want to be with my only family. To finally have that. That’s unhealthy.”

He feels more than hears the resigned sigh on the other end of the line. He knows he’s being unreasonable. Poisonous. He just wants to _push_. To push it all away. To push everything, just- away. He hangs up and Sehun doesn’t call him back.

Regrettably, he’s in a foul mood when he meets Mark in the afternoon to get ready for the party. He’s instantly filled with guilt for the side of him Mark’s going to get for the remainder of the night. But when he walks through the door and drops his keys on the side table, Mark looks up from whatever he’s stirring in the kitchen and sees him. Really sees him. He’s silent as he crosses the apartment and pulls Jungwoo into his arms. Despite how tall and lanky Jungwoo is, it’s really quite amazing how easily he can fold himself into Mark’s chest, how small he can really become.

Mark doesn’t say much, doesn’t need to ask. He makes it so easy. There’s enough to be upset over, and any guess Mark could make would likely be near-enough to the truth. Jungwoo is tired of it all. He feels ready to bolt.

Later they lay twined in Mark’s bed, as Jungwoo wonders after the toxic weight in his chest. So much to say, and as usual it hands between them, over them. Haechan is suspiciously absent, and Mark tells him his roommate is out getting his costume but Jungwoo suspects his delayed return is Mark’s doing. He hates himself for it. Even so, Mark as always effortlessly manages to settle him. He leans up on one elbow and Jungwoo watches Mark, who watches him in turn. His fingers thread through Jungwoo’s hair, pushing it back from his face. His adoration is clear as ever on his face and Jungwoo allows himself to hope.

“I feel like you’ve had to take care of me so much lately.” Jungwoo thinks out loud, and his expression is clear as Mark’s changes, pinching a little. His eyebrows draw together and he frowns down at Jungwoo.

“Man, I think you’ve got that backwards…” And at this, Jungwoo helplessly feels his mouth curve. Mark’s smile twitches to life in return and Jungwoo can only reach up and kiss him. To thread his own fingers in Mark’s hair and pull him down until their foreheads are touching and he can breath Mark in and memorize this, like everything. To make certain he’ll never forget. Never fully recover.

“Whatever you’re thinking about…” Mark starts, and settles more comfortably against his chest so he can look into Jungwoo’s face. “Whenever you think about it, and it makes you sad... Kiss me instead.” He’s serious, eyes searching and Jungwoo wants to remind him that he can only do that for so long, until the very fact he can’t kiss Mark becomes the reason for his pain. Mark sees the torment on his face.

“Kiss me instead.” Mark whispers again, urgent. Jungwoo does.

-

The house is lavish and well-lit when Mark and Jungwoo arrive. It’s extremely well-decorated for the party, professionally so. There are so many guests that Jungwoo loses count, and its quickly apparent that this isn’t a typical house-party. The attendees are well-dressed but seem to come from all walks of life. It’s impressive to see the people from Ten’s drag life and Kun’s business life mingling. And Ten has done such a good job with the entertainment that there’s something for everybody. Each room of the main floor in their sprawling home contains a different sort of Halloween surprise and Jungwoo finds there's always somewhere he can feel comfortable. 

He hasn’t heard from Johnny all day despite his numerous texts, but he assumes Johnny’s battery has died during travel and he’ll arrive any minute in all his glory, probably with a forty pack under his arm and a pair of fake vampire teeth. Jungwoo tries not to think about it, and it’s easy when he watches Mark float at his side in his own outfit.

“Hey- where’s Waldo?” A stranger helpfully asks as they wander the house, and Mark turns and offers a polite smile. It’s the hundredth time he’s heard it that night, but he takes it in stride. Jungwoo commits his profile to memory - oversized, black-framed glasses under the styled fringe of his black hair. His neck, pale and long, disappearing into the collar of his red and white striped t-shirt. Simple black jeans and black boots. He looks cute, and good enough to eat. 

He kisses Mark, a lot. Every time the thoughts sneak back in that he doesn’t want to acknowledge. And if he kisses Mark far more than normal, Mark doesn’t comment. He meets him each time and smiles against his mouth. He laughs and toys with the feathered wings sprouting out of the back of Jungwoo’s jacket. They’re the only Halloween accessory he’s bothered with, but Mark seems to like them well enough. Mark can’t take his eyes off of him.

They’re standing in the kitchen when the call comes. Ten is trying to convince Kun to take a shot of an unappealing thick, red alcoholic concoction when Jungwoo feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket. The caller display reads _Johnny boi_ and Jungwoo excuses himself out onto the back porch to take the call. Mark pats his butt as he leaves and Jungwoo is breathless on a laugh when he answers the phone.

“Where the fuck are you, man? Tell me you’re bringing some beer or something because they’re plying us with these awful Halloween-themed cocktails that just hit _wrong_ -”

“Yeah, Woo - about that.” 

And Jungwoo’s laugh dies in his throat. Johnny doesn’t sound right.

“You okay? You don’t sound good.” He’s a little tipsy and the night air helps, but he leans against the brick of the house anyway. His stomach is swirling uncomfortably with the thought that something isn’t right.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. But… I won’t be there tonight. I’m sorry.” His voice is pinched, unnatural. Jungwoo’s face twists a little and he pulls back his phone to look at the time. It’s late. How did it get so late?

“What do you mean, man? You were on your way, weren’t you?” Jungwoo hates the high pitch in his voice. He senses it coming over him, the need for an answer. A good one.

“No… I didn’t leave. I’m sorry. Something came up here, and I made the decision to stay.” And it’s oddly stilted, forced. Johnny sounds braced to defend himself and Jungwoo immediately rises to the bait.

“You… made a decision?” He’s confused, and progressively starts to feel a trickle of betrayal nestle somewhere between his ribs, sticky and painful.

“Yeah. I tried to tell you before, but…” There’s a kind of tiredness in Johnny’s voice. An exhaustion Jungwoo hasn’t heard before.

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jungwoo wracks his brain. “I’m sorry.” He offers, because its much more tempered than the _what the fuck_ he wants to say.

“I know, but… I tried to tell you. This weekend is important for Taeyong. I told you I wasn’t sure I could come. I tried to tell you yesterday that I for sure couldn’t make it but Woo… it really felt like you weren’t listening, man.” And that. That feels like a much more pointed jab. Something releases in Jungwoo’s chest. A restraint he didn’t know he was holding. For a second it translates onto into a tight silence he’s desperate but unwilling to fill.

“What the ever-loving _fuck_ are you talking about?” He can’t hide the waver in his voice. He feels some furious nest start in his chest, twisting and tying around his heart and he pushes away from the wall and starts pacing in the backyard. The surface of the in-ground pool twinkles back merrily at him.

Johnny says something and Jungwoo doesn’t hear him. _Really_ doesn’t listen this time. The sound of his own heartbeat in his ears is too much.

“I’ve needed you… and you’re not there! It’s hard enough for me to ask, but now you act like I’m the tiresome one… Like I’m expecting too much. You _never_ told me, you never did…” And he’s just rambling, upset, his voice rising hysterically. He doesn’t know what he’s trying to say, but hearing Johnny sigh over the phone is too much. There’s a mani climbing in his throat, and he helplessly bats it down even though the thoughts comes unfettered. The few people in his life that he’s ever needed. Sehun doesn’t want to stay with him. Johnny acts like he’s crazy, like he’s a handful. Is it selfish to want to be cared for? The thoughts trace and meander across his brain with no logical start or end. Only the sting of betrayal, abandonment.

Johnny is saying something, the tightest patience in his voice Jungwoo has ever heard and its… enough. Just enough. Jungwoo isn’t sober enough to think clearly, to find reason in swaying alone out on the deck. He ends the call and whips his phone into the bushes. He doesn’t hear the snap of the plastic he was expecting, that he needed. He starts pacing again, pulling at his hair.

“Why… why…” He whispers to himself, voice tight and furious. The night sings with cicadas and the pool is still. It’s all too silent, too perfect. A glass patio set twinkles beside the pool and he doesnt think as he raises his boot and kicks against it, needing something, anything to reflect what’s going on inside.

It feels a bit like it’s happening in slow motion - the metal frame of the table hits the concrete and bounces and the glass shatters into a thousand miniscule pieces. The crash is a high, simple sound that hits Jungwoo the right way - it’s accurate, relatable. The light darkens across the pool as faces press themselves to the windows at the back of the house, and Jungwoo watches the glass spill and trickle into the pool, where they disappear as though they’ve dissolved.

“Fuck… _fuck_...” he murmurs, tugging at his hair again.

“ _Fuck_...” That’s Ten’s voice, followed by the sound of several boots gathering on the wood of the deck. Jungwoo refuses to look at them, and his muscles coil, ready to strike.

“Jungwoo…?” And _Mark_... his voice soft, concerned. The small bit of softness in his life that’s soon to wash away with the rest. He feels a hand on his arm and wrenches away. Mark takes a step back when Jungwoo’s wild gaze falls on him.

“Woo, what happened?” And Jungwoo looks up to see several partiers spilling out onto the deck in interest, even as Kun urges them back inside with hushed whispers.

“Is that the Kim boy…?” Someone asks, and Jungwoo feels his chest coil ever-tighter. Tears gather hot in the corners of his eyes.

 _Kiss me_ , Mark wants to say, horrified to see the panicked expression in Jungwoo’s eyes. But this time, he knows it won’t be enough. Whatever this is, it won’t be enough. He doesn’t fully understand the man that stands in front of him. He’s nothing like the man he met in the convenience store, with his appreciative gaze and air of curiosity. Careful and observant and clever. This Jungwoo holds himself tight as if he’s afraid he’ll fall apart. It’s oddly symbolic, to watch an angel with dark wings grip at their own skin as if they don’t recognize themselves.

“Come on - we’re leaving.” Mark urges, recognizing this won’t be solved here. Jungwoo doesn’t know what to say, only stares back at him, helpless. Kun and Ten get everyone back inside and return to them, body language cautious, expressions pinched.

“I’m sorry about the table. I’ll pay for a new one…” Mark starts and Jungwoo squeezes his eyes shut, red hot shame washing over him from head to toe.

“No… no…” His voice doesn’t want to work. Mark doesn’t have _money_. He has to go to _school_. Kun grips him by the hand and Jungwoo lets him as tears start to streak down his cheeks.

“Don’t worry about this. I’ve called you a cab already, just let me know when you get home safe. We can talk later.” His voice is patient, but understanding and Jungwoo feels it like a balm. He doesn’t respond, but he’s more grateful than he can currently express. Mark thanks them both and apologizes again. Jungwoo opens his eyes just in time to see Ten give Mark a significant look before they step inside, and his pain flares again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” his fingers curl in Mark’s sweater. Mark hushes him and pulls him close, walking them towards the hedged wall and back gate. He wouldn’t dare take Jungwoo through the house like this.

“Don’t worry, I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Mark presses his nose against Jungwoo’s jaw as they walk and Jungwoo slows his breath, desperately trying to make sense of it all.

“Johnny’s not coming. He called me. He said he told me already that he wouldn’t be here, but he didn’t. He _didn’t_.” Mark nods in understanding but he doesn’t fully see it, the depth of Jungwoo’s frustration. The combination of it all.

“It’s like he’s pulling away, tired of me. I’ve never heard him sound like that before. It hurt. He was exhausted with me. And Sehun…” Jungwoo chokes back and fresh wave of tears as his words spill unhindered, lubricated by alcohol. They settle near the driveway out front, away from prying eyes, and Mark takes Jungwoo’s face into his hands, urging him to meet his eyes.

“Thank you for telling me.” Mark whispers, and Jungwoo breaks. He’s unable to hold back the hot tears that run freely over his cheeks, and Mark kisses each one of them. There’s no judgement. He handles Jungwoo softly, with love. And somehow knowing this, that this is what he has and will someday soon lose, makes it all the more worse. 

_I love you_ , Jungwoo wants desperately to whisper. Even now, when he’s at his worst and there’s no way that Mark could really, genuinely return the sentiment, Jungwoo wants to say it. He shouldn’t open his mouth. He doesn’t know what will come out. The back of his tongue is still sticky with the blood-red shots Ten has made for them.

So instead, he lets Mark lead him to the cab as it pulls up, and he holds the smaller boy close, breathing in the smell of his shampoo and fingers tangling in the red and white stripes of his shirt. When they get home, he’s pliant and Mark strips him of his wings and his clothes and tucks him into the bed. His body is hot against Jungwoo’s, and the weight of him is, as always, deeply comforting. 

Worry ebbing into despondency, he hums when Mark run his fingers through his hair. There’s no judgement, even where there should be. Jungwoo has been an expert lately at pushing everyone away, but he can’t quite bring himself to do it now, with Mark. Poison sits in his chest, knowing that this can’t possibly be healthy for them, or more importantly Mark. Like a little angel, Mark settles at his side and kisses his cheek and Jungwoo lets him even when he knows he’ll tear this down, too. Ruin it for good, so that Mark can be unburdened just like Sehun and Johnny.

Mark watches the wheels turn in his head, and hushes him even though he’s silent. He holds him as tight as he dares, and wishes he understood what he could do. The last thing Jungwoo needs is another stressor. Maybe in the morning it would be a little bit better and they could talk, and Mark could ask him. Really ask him once and for all what they could be.

“I’m here.” Mark whispers, and he softly whipes away the fresh tears that gather in Jungwoo’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twt   
>  cc

**Author's Note:**

> Jungwoo's bike is a Triumph Bonneville (a personal fave):  
> https://pipeburn.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/22_05_2013_ellsapede_triumph_bonneville_01.jpg


End file.
